


Son of a Devil

by VoidMatron



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Angst, Anxiety, Awkwardness, Drama, Drama & Romance, Drugs, Explicit Sexual Content, Flashbacks, Friendship, Idiots in Love, Implied Sexual Content, Infidelity, Love, Mental Anguish, Mental Health Issues, Mentions of Prostitution, Mentions of drugs, Multi, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Plot, Prison Talk, Romance, Roughness, Sad Bofur, Sex Drugs and Rock and Roll, Sexual Content, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Smut, Substance Abuse, Tension, Top Tauriel, implied pegging
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:15:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27658061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VoidMatron/pseuds/VoidMatron
Summary: Bofur is doing the best he can since being released from prison and he's discovering that rehabilitation back into society isn't as easy as he expected it to be. New passions arise as do budding friendships along the way, but Bofur must endure the hardships of his past that now may affect his future if he doesn't get a handle on his bad habits. Will he climb out of the pit that he dug himself or will he merely dig deeper and bury himself in despair? Either way, Bofur must make some harsh decisions less he ends up right back where he started.
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Bofur, Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Bofur/Bard, Bofur/Tauriel, Bofur/Thorin Oakenshield
Comments: 6
Kudos: 5





	1. FFR

**Author's Note:**

> Trying to do this fic properly and here's hoping it goes well.  
> It's a little personal in some aspects when it comes to mental health/medication/addiction. There's some inaccuracies for the story's sake, but my intention is just that; to tell a story (and to share it).
> 
> Big shoutout to ManhattanMom (And then the drink takes you) & objectlesson (All Night Long). Their works motivated me to do my own modern story. Please do go check out their stories, they're amazing!

Felons For Rehabilitation was a new program that had been making moderately decent traction as far as group therapies went. With its main focus centering around felons out of jail, it was gradually becoming a vital resource within small town communities for being endeavored with the task of trying to make felons upstanding citizens once more. Surprisingly, its turnout rate had been moderate, but gradually climbing since they provided beyond the usual basic group therapy sessions and often interconnecting with other associated addiction and mental health facilities within the city. It was because of FFR that Bofur was working on getting back on the right track of wishing to become "normal" again.  Years of being on the bend, in and out of jails, and committing petty crimes had finally earned him the brand of being a felon. A few years in jail with his friend had come with the cost of losing everything; what few friends he had turned their backs on him, his brother and cousin outright avoided his calls, and he was stuck locked up with Nori.  The bastard who got him in all this trouble. His cousin was right about the redhead, as were their band mates that knew Nori liked to push things a little harder when it came to drugs and shenanigans.  At least he got out early for signing up in FFR's Program that eased his sentence up properly enough to where he'd have to show that he genuinely wanted to improve his life. Two months worth of paperwork for health insurance, signing up for mental health checkups and therapy sessions,  _ and _ probation with an ankle bracelet? It was hell, but Bofur was  _ free _ and signing up with the program ensured that he'd get a place of his own for the first eight months before having to pay rent, yet the monthly inspections were a drag and finding a job wasn't easy.  The group sessions were probably the hardest for Bofur. He didn't like speaking up in front of people on his personal issues and there was far too much crying for comfort, but some of the chicks were hot and there was free coffee with treats provided by FFR's Case Manager. All Bofur wanted was a cute lass in his lap and a beer in his hand or a joint between the lips. Particularly, he was keen on Tauriel; a dame with red hair and sharp eyes. The body of a yoga mom and the ass of a college freshman on Friday night. She was a sullen bitch, cheeky and mouthy just like he was--they both seemed to prefer when people were chucking over sulking. In a way, Tauriel had kind of pried him out of his shell to speak up finally and it came with him speaking a bit more about himself than commentary on other people's conflicts.

"Ya know, they always say that prison changes folks a bit when they get out and all, right? I didn't really understand what they meant till I ended up in that situation. It helped my 'problems', sort of, least I thought they would, but only found out it made shit worse."

"How so?"

"Well, prison's rather strict, yeah? It's a fairly set in stone routine on a daily basis, but those first few months--" Bofur blew a low breath and shook his head as he sat up to comb strands of hair away from his face. "Those first few months were  _ hell _ . They've got a pretty strict routine in there too, but you get good with the right fellas? Three days in and I was offerin' favors, hellbent to get in good for a joint or some cigs, so my mindset was at trying to fight off withdrawals when I was--" Bofur gestured awkwardly, expressing that he didn't want to go into detail. "Ya get desperate when you're locked up, guys in there were addicted to some pretty hard stuff. Meth. Crack. I had already been kinda hooked on pain pills a little after I had a bad fall years back. Fucked up my hip, yeah? You could get it if you knew who to talk to and put in a few good favors. Me on the other hand? I was tradin' one fix for another to cope. I dunno maybe I wasn't hugged enough as a kid? I was addicted to intimacy and the acts that came with it; courtship and romance.  _ Sex _ . The slip of a pain pill or two just made shit a bit more bearable," Bofur inhaled again, he couldn't even look at the others as he shook his head and hunched a little lower with shame.

"Is there a chance you can tell me why you did these things, Bofur?" Bilbo asked gently.

Bofur gave a dismissive shrug and glanced towards the speaker with caution, Blue eyes and combed blond hair clashed with the gold rimmed glasses. Even worse were the corduroy trousers and sweater vest.  _Christ, he looks like a damn librarian._ Bofur thought ruefully as he crossed his arms over his chest to express passive defense. Bilbo wasn't their usual Case Manager that they  were all used to, some new guy that volunteered to take them on was fishy at best. Yet Bilbo was oddly sweet and not as harsh speaking as their usual guy, he seemed content and far more understanding too. He actually  _ listened  _ to them and the fact that he was so engaging had quickly allowed Bilbo to gain some mutual respect among the group.

"It's because you were powerless over your addictive impulses. It controlled you in those moments and you had little choice, but to act on them. It's not entirely your fault that you succumbed to these urges, remember?"

Bofur nodded in agreement. He remembered all too well;  _ Admit that you are powerless over your addictions. Admit to your lapses of weakness, so that you are aware that were unmanaged. _

"Thank you for sharing, Bofur. It was very brave of you to speak up this evening."

"I guess. If ya say so, Bilbo."

Bilbo smirked at the dismissive tone, but let it slide as he went on with the discussion, offering anyone else to share a past experience, Tauriel raised her hand to speak about her experience and Bofur had to look away, had to stand up and meander towards the coffee table to grab a refill on some coffee and another doughnut. For some reason, hearing Tauriel talk about her ex for the hundredth damned time seemed to make Bofur frustrated. More so since the two of them had been sort of seeing each other on the slide. It wasn't exactly against the rules, more so greatly frowned upon, but they were both at fault for wanting what they both could provide one another; comfort and mutual company. That and good sex. Who would ever turn down a good fuck?

"I didn't wholly expect him to react the way he did? He got upset with me and when I tried to explain why I was admitting that my problems are my responsibility, but instead he got this attitude and I got pissed off, then he-he--" the redhead couldn't speak up further, two fingers pressed against her temple to rub in quiet frustration as she tried to bury her anger from being seen.

"Yet again he makes ya look like the villain."

Bilbo gave Bofur a glance as he sat back down. "Sorry, it's just--the guy sounds like he never wants to take blame for anything?"

"That's not true?"

"You openly admitted to him that you were at fault and he still throws you under the bus. S'fuckin' weird. What kinda douche bag doesn't take responsibility for his own fuck ups?"

"Although I agree with your perception that Tauriel isn't entirely to blame for the fault of what happened, she is at fault for her compulsive behaviors, Bofur. No matter who started what, either way infidelity is  _ a sin,  _ Tauriel. Nevertheless you've trekked on the first steps of forgiveness by admitting your sins to those you've hurt. I'm proud of you for admitting and taking responsibility for your wrongs, Tauriel," Bilbo explained with a warm tone.

They talked on for another half hour, discussed what was in their objectives for the week onward, breathing techniques practiced and observed diligently came with them standing to end the session with their usual prayer before they broke off into their groups to converse or head outside for a smoke. Bofur meandered over towards the bulletin board, hellbent to find any advertisements for jobs, freelance or even full time since he was so desperate.

“You gotta stop defending me, North Boy.”

He shook his head, blinked for a few seconds and turned to look up at Tauriel with a smile. “Do you  _ want  _ me to stop?”

I--well--no, not really. Its refreshing actually. What you think about Bilbo? Kind of a--"   
“A Bible Bumper. I get it, they can be a bit judgy. He pushes the faith too much sometimes, but he's good.”

“Is he a priest?”   
“I hope not for all our sakes. Nah, I think he works pretty close with the church here though? Volunteers to do these sessions so he's just a good fellow tryin’ to help us degenerates.”

Tauriel moved to the side to allow the remaining few to leave with lighters in hand. Going quiet for a moment to make sure they left before clearing her throat to look back at Bofur who was glancing back at the bulletin board. They both stood there a moment, keeping still as the distant rumble of thunder caused Bofur to exhale a low sigh.

"You need a ride home?"

Bofur grinned, knowing well enough what Tauriel was implicating in her tone, but he withheld speaking up, only smirking to give a nod as he watched Tauriel turn to take her leave with Bofur following close behind.


	2. Tauriel

Bofur and Tauriel spoke on the drive home as they always did. Mostly on her bullshit with home life or work, but this time she wanted to know of how he ended up being part of FFR and what his parole requirements were like. Everyone had a different story to tell of course, but as long as him and Tauriel had been fooling around, they had never really pried into each other's personal life. Hell, they didn't really  _ want  _ to since it tended to cause more intrusive thoughts than what they intended. They fucked and sometimes shared a joint afterward, why ruin a good pattern with shitty feelings? Still, Tauriel was curious and had been packing for a while to know what Bofur was all about, so he finally relented to let her ask away.

"So you're under curfew and everything?"

"Yeah, kinda sucks actually. Twice a week, I'm required to attend therapy sessions; One with the group, the other with a temp therapist who's kinda like a case manager provided by some Adult Rehab Service group or somethin'. Can't do drugs, gotta be in before 10pm, gotta have check in's with my officer."

"All this because you..?"

Bofur chuckled and sat back in the passenger seat as they waited for the light to change. He was reluctant to speak on what had happened, but Tauriel was giving him curious side glances.

"I was in a band for a while. We did a lotta wild shit.

" _ You? _ "

"Yeah! Some friends of mine started up a band a few years back. We were pretty good back home, I was guitarist and backup singer, but things kinda went downhill after my accident. Got hooked on pills for a bit and it got me caught up in some bullshit. Then our singer who was kinda our leader decided to go solo with some agent. He ended up getting a deal and fucked off to Tennessee or..whatever.."

"How did you get locked up?"

"We ended up tryin' to do a burglary on a client who hired us for his nephew's bar mitzvah, tryin' to make ends meet and feed our shit habits. Got caught. My friend already had a repeated history of theft and car jacking so he got more time, I ended up getting five-to-seven 'cause the bastard was buddy-buddy with the judge, but got out early for good behavior."

"Holy shit you're an adventurous fuckin' guy, Bofur."

"I get by," Bofur drawled with a chuckle as he pointed in the direction to turn.

Laketown Heights wasn't exactly The Most swankiest place to call home, but the apartment complex was better than the streets and the tenants were mostly like Bofur; poor, dead end jobs, recovering addicts, and those in parole being assigned a spot by the government as per requirement. Bofur sighed as he checked his phone for the time and any messages before looking back over at Tauriel. He couldn't stop staring at her when he got the chance since she was damned gorgeous. The lighting was perfect on making those angular features prominent,  her sharp gaze looking back knowingly as she bit down on her lower lip that made him exhale a shaky breath to keep himself composed.

"So what's the deal with your husband?"

"He--" Tauriel paused to think on her words, dry lips pursed thoughtfully as she frowned. "He's a little younger than me. Him and I work for his uncle at Erebor Industries"

"That mining place or whatever right? Supplies raw materials to a few factories in the city to make shit."

"Well yes that's one of the things we do, but the main office where they handle all the paperwork is in the city. I work there as a secretary, Kili manages shipments for the Western District, his brother works a little closer with their uncle since he's in line to inherit the company once their uncle retires."

"Big family business then."

"Oh yeah, the Oakenshield's have ran the place for ages now. Still, the conflict with my husband and I--well--I cheated on him. He cheated on me. We fought. We agreed to stop our toxic behaviors and go to marriage counseling, our therapist suggested we separate for a bit to see how things go. Buuut-- "

"But you didn't stop sleeping around."

"Not at all and neither has he. I suppose that's my curse; I've never been wholly fond of wanting to settle down, so why not settle with a younger man who's not committed? Too much nostalgia

for my carefree years brought up a mid life crisis which led down a month long bender to where I was getting arrested one too many times. I paid the price and got locked up, now I'm in therapy trying to get better."

"Why not just divorce him?"

"What?"

"Kili. You're still fuckin' around, right? Why not just leave'em? Spare the heartbreak."

"Well, his family would have a fit since they're pretty old school on the whole marriage situation. A divorce would be a scandal and we'd never hear the end of it. That and we really do love each other so much."

"Yeah, but group therapy? Sounds like you make enough to get someone more private."

"I like the company."

Bofur snorted out loud as Tauriel smiled back, which only made him grin in return before the car came to a halt in the parking lot. Bofur looked out the window for a moment, struggling with thoughts and contemplating a few prompt decisions on whether or not he should bother. The small lobby area reeked of wet dog and stained carpet, yellow walls from smokers and the old man behind the front desk was busy watching the game on an old desktop TV.  Tauriel waved him off as she stepped out the lobby to leave Bofur on his own, he clearly looked put out since he was hopeful that something more was going to happen. _Fuck_. Did he say something wrong again or was she just not in the mood? The trek to his apartment was dull as  per usual; a funk of cat piss and tobacco hit his nose pretty hard, but by the time he reached his floor, he was already nose blind and retreating himself away to the familiar smell of his home. A time warp of the 80s and 90s that had never fully escaped the threshold of Bofur's home only matched the personality of a man riddled with nostalgia. Old posters of scantily clad models and heavy metal bands; an old punk rocker vying for the halcyon days where it was just him and the bros rocking out in the garage or hitting on girls at gigs in bars. Stealing beers from the corner store, getting high in the alleyway, after parties at strip joints before stumbling back home in a daze of drunken delight. Girls pressing their tits up against his face begging for a signature. Fellows pulling him to the back to flirt and tease. His home were reminders of these fond memories of his band and clung to comforts that any man would adore. Bofur happily threw himself on the sofa to kick off his boots and sprawl out with TV being flicked on lazily. Monotony was a weird blessing that he had come to appreciate, another had to be personal space that he took for granted when locked up. Even now as Bofur started to doze off with the news droning in his ears, he finally felt some sense of peace that smothered over his daily anxieties, he'd find a job tomorrow, throw some applications at wherever, scrounge around for some food, then appreciate his simple comforts.  Yet as he was nodding off, Bofur kept thinking back on his conversation with Tauriel that was nagging him to no end. He wanted to fuck and he knew damn well she wanted it too. Yet she was holding back for whatever reason and it was driving him crazy. Half hard cock was adjusted lazily  by a grope of his crotch as he tried to disregard the subtle buzz of arousal, but try as he may Bofur still idly groped himself.

_ The fuck did I say to her? She knows she ain't gotta ask anything from me these days. Jesus fuckin' Christ it was prolly cause I mentioned her husband and now she's-- _

A loud knocking made Bofur jolt awake as he blinked hard and rose with a loud grunt to answer.  _ Who the hell is here at this hour?  _ Bofur leaned up against the threshold of the doorway to exhale a far too tired sigh.

"Who is it?"

"You forgot something in my car, North Boy," Tauriel teased.

Bofur paused at hearing the familiar voice, head bowed and had a smug smirk over his face as he opened the door to lean against the threshold. Arms crossed over his chest as that impish grin that only brought red to Tauriel's cheeks in quick turn.

"Hey."

"Hey."


	3. Good Boy Bofur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bofur gets a new job and has to pay Tauriel back some way. At least there's a mutual agreement that they both don't look a gift horse in the mouth.
> 
> CW // Semi-Explicit content + Tauriel totally topping Bofur

"So here's the supply closet, each floor has one at the far end of the hall and it'll be your job to stock if some of the shelves get low. Main stock room is in the basement. Be careful with the fifth floor wash bin, the plumbing's a bit fucked up and we've had some leakage, man. Empty shit-water on the fourth before ya head up there. You get two breaks, one's a halfie for a smoke, the other a full half hour. You got any questions?"

"We just eat anywhere or is there a break room?"

"We got a spot set up in our area downstairs. Kinda crusty, but there's a fridge and a microwave. By the way we got rules for that too; no seafood, fridge gets cleaned out once every few weeks so shit don't grow in there. Last time, Leonard left a sandwich in there for months and it was terraforming the bottom shelf!"

Three weeks had passed since and things were finally looking up for Bofur. Therapy sessions were going well and he finally managed to find a job which got his probation officer off his ass for a while. His curfew hours changed to fit his occupation, which suited his night owl nature and did wonders with improving his mood. Bofur was hopeful about this, sure the job was at the bottom of the totem pole, but it was a _job_ and he had to thank Tauriel for hooking him up with the chance. Being a custodian wasn't the most cushiest occupation, but having the perk of custodial skills on his resume was hard for Erebor Industries to pass up even with the whole Felon mark branding his records. Bofur sure as hell needed the job anyways, so it was a quick round about with sucking up hard during the interview to make himself look as good as he could. Now all he had to do was endure the mind numbing ordeals of orientation; safety videos, scheduling, more tours, and of course paperwork. By the time everything was done and over with, Bofur was stepping outside for a smoke and greeted with the familiar sound of laughter that made him look sideways at a few office ladies stepping out for the afternoon, one in particular caught his eye that made him perk with attention as she approached.

"North Boy! Lookit you being bright eyed and bushy tailed!"

"Kinda sorta, better than stealin' purses," Bofur mused as he watched Tauriel light a cigarette and exhale a small trail of smoke. She tipped her head to the side, studying the denim and cotton coveralls along with dirty boots and dark undershirt that did wonders accentuating muscle tone in shoulders and arms. The hat alone was a distraction, easily making her head cant up somewhat to hold back laughter, only failing to exhale a few small snorts.

"You look like Ol'McDonald, for fuck's sake."

"I'm kinda limited on clothes at the moment, did my best with what I got."

"It's the hat, it looks so silly and it's not even cold enough for ear flaps. They haven't given you a uniform yet?"

"Nah, maybe tomorrow or Monday."

"Well congratulations on becoming Erebor Industries' grease monkey."

"I really owe you one, Tauriel."

"Hmnn..I'll keep that in mind."

"Ey Bofur you done? Found that safety video on Cleanin' Products for you to watch."

"See you later, North Boy," Tauriel teased again before turning to take her leave.

Bofur scoffed out loud, hands tucked into pocket and walking backwards for a moment to admire the view of Tauriel taking her leave. Clearly he indulged in those few, fleeting seconds to enjoy the curve of hip and long legs in stockings. High heels and business skirt, white blouse top, and even squared glasses. It was only then Bofur realized how attractive Tauriel looked when she reached  to push her hair behind the crook of her ear to show more of her face. Even more appealing when she looked over her shoulder back at him to give a smirk in his direction.

\----

Bofur couldn't help what him and Tauriel had, nor did he question it. Granted they weren't the type to be overtly subtle, but who didn't like a good looking woman riding them two ways from Sunday? Touch starved and hungry for the touch of a woman, Bofur felt as if he had every right to reap these rewards of freedom that prison couldn't provide. Tauriel wasn't the type of woman he usually went for, but when they were in bed--her shoving his cock deep inside with hips rolling and his thumb pressing against the head of her clit, there was hardly protest for standards. She was passionate, fiery, and gorgeous with ample hips, firm thighs, and a cute ass that was a perfect handful. Her somewhat lithe frame pressed with the curve of a woman who stayed fit, perky breasts and pink nipples that he had a habit of biting. Which was met with the retaliation of being pushed back down on the covers and made to stay put with nails digging into his shoulders. She always cried out when he pulled her hair, and she loved to hear him groan when  she dragged her nails down his back. Tauriel was a damn good fuck, but then again Bofur seemed to think almost everyone was a decent lay.  Yet his biggest complaint was that Tauriel was a selfish lover; Their lust driven throes of passion were often initiated by her, which were often completely out of the blue, she was particular about what could and couldn't be done, her standards were a bit high, and she had moments of disregarding his wants. Yet, Bofur didn't complain, he kept his mouth shut and was complicit enough to enjoy the rush while it lasted. Tauriel cried and moaned about how big he was, how he was a better fuck than her husband, how she adored when he went between her thighs to savor her taste of who she truly was. It was a good confidence boost of course, but at the end of it all he was always left feeling drained and exhausted. Most of the time he ached in a way that the only relief came with the steady strokes of his own hand and porn on his cellphone, sometimes she lingered to watch, sometimes she jerked him off or was merciful enough to use her mouth, but often times Tauriel rolled over to sleep or pulled a bullshit excuse forcing her to leave at the last minute. Again, Bofur opted to keep his opinions to himself for the time being. He wasn't one too keen on confrontations and in his mind it was still something of a win-win.  That night when he came home from work was no different. She was by his door waiting for him to arrive and he welcomed her in, they spoke about their day on the sofa until she crawled into his lap. Her mouth tasted sweet as ever, his of a few sips of whiskey to help calm his nerves. A slip of tongue guided in tandem with hands resting on hips and breaths becoming shorter as she rolled herself even closer to grind and force Bofur to exhale a wanting groan that made Tauriel giggle.

"Remember how you said you owed me?"

Bofur paused as Tauriel suckled on his neck which made him huff out a small breath.

"Yeah?"

"So I brought a toy--"

"Oh my God--"

"You promised!"

"I meant like--you know what? It's fine. Next time I gotta clarify m'self better."

"Do you not want to--"

"Nah I want to, but it's just..been a while. Unexpected twists make me nervous."

Tauriel scoffed and stood to beckon Bofur to follow, moving into the adjacent area where the wall divided into a bedroom section. She was sweet and endearing with Bofur, kissing while unbuckling his jeans to pull them down. Bofur grinned when he felt fingertips brush against the trail of hair along his stomach, deftly tugging up the hem of his shirt to expose bare torso warmed by dark hair. His own hands reached to unbutton her blouse top, easily plucking them free to reveal bare chest and soft breasts, each one given a playful squeeze before she pulled away to grab her purse. There was that temporary moment of anticipation that drove Bofur to sit down on the bed and scoot back as he waited, that subtle feel of excitement making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end as he sat up against the pillows. Just as he was tugging his boxers down, he froze when he saw Tauriel standing there looking far too proud for her own good. The bound, leather straps pressed along hips and between thighs, that weighted holster in the center of her groin that supported the heft of a low hanging dildo being stroked slowly up and down with the the messy noise of a wet hand coated with lube. He stared at the red and pink discoloration, the fake imprinted vein that made him catch a small breath as he looked back up at Tauriel who was moving in, sinking into the bed to tuck between his thighs and kiss at his cheek lovingly. Bofur's heart was racing as he felt the warmth and hand and coolness of lube stroking his half hard prick to harder attention. He joked back a noise he almost made, as he helped by pushing Tauriel's hair back to kiss her cheek in return, tickling her jaw with his mustache as she smiled. A sharp hitch of breath, his body tensed and again he held back noise as Tauirel watched his expression melt from discomfort to deep pleasure as she rubbed and pressed her fingers inside.

"Remember our safe word?"

"Y-yeah.."

"Good boy.."

\----

Bofur was a creature of habit that tended to have a routine for almost everything. It kept him secure and mindfully in control to some sense that was both comforting and reassuring, so like any other night that him and Tauriel fucked around they would sit out on the fire escape to share a joint. Sometimes they talked and flirted, riled each other up for a possible second round if they had it in them, but most of the time they shared in on the peaceful atmosphere of silence. Tugboats and fishermen by the piers, the distant roar of the trains in old railroad tracks clicking away. The air was getting cooler and sometimes they sat close to share in each other's warmth, usually with Tauriel resting in his lap with him resting a cheek against her shoulder. Yet tonight Bofur couldn't even  _ look  _ at Tauriel and she picked up on the tension. right away. She did her best to keep her distance, but they were both still hungry for a familiar touch. He tolerated her presence in that moment, only allowing her to comb back his long brown hair away from his face as he hugged the joint. Bofur was rigid and tense, his hands shook and his eyes were wide with the obvious indication that he was avoiding her gaze. She wasn't sure how to really put into words what had happened, let alone if she was in the right to bring up what had happened. Yet Bofur looked genuinely troubled by the whole ordeal and in some ways Tauriel did feel guilty for what clearly had been some kind of trigger that sent Bofur into a standoffish state.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

" _No._ "

Tauriel flinched somewhat as she rested a hand on his shoulder, indicating enough that she cared and was worried about him. It didn't stop her from questioning it all. The way Bofur looked and sounded was something she'd not seen before. The fact that he moaned out someone else's name--Tauriel couldn't be upset or offended, but she felt guilt for laughing at something that was obviously a thing that wasn't supposed to happen.  


"Who's Bard?"

"Shouldn't you be getting home to Kili?"

It was a vicious jab made with a sharp tongue pin pricked with a venomous tone that gave clear warning. Bofur didn't want to talk about it. Tauriel glowered and stood, quick to slip back inside the apartment to grab her belongings. Bofur didn't even turn to look at her, let alone bid her farewell. All he could do was sit there still as thoughts and memories flooded his thoughts. Even when Tauriel slammed the door, Bofur didn't flinch, only bringing the joint to his lips as he exhaled more smoke from his mouth while trying not to throw himself into a pit of grim reminders.


	4. Bilbo's Friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bofur's in need of a voice of reason. Lucky for him, Bilbo's more than happy to assist.
> 
> CW // Mentions of Verbal Abuse/Past Drug Abuse

On those fleeting moments where Bofur found himself digging deeper into a pit of his own emotions, he was actually relieved that he had appointments with a private therapist. The confidentiality was a blessing and Dr. Gray was a surprisingly chill guy for his age that Bofur had not at all expected. Usually him and Dr. Gray spoke on factors of his past, which he avoided with everyone else, but the old man simply had a way with encouraging him to express his feelings. Still, Bofur didn't enjoy it all the time, the crying was exhausting, he often became so overwhelmed by his wrought of anxiety that he'd curl up into the fetal position sobbing, but sometimes those sessions helped get a  _ lot  _ off his chest. Dr. Gray was always there to bring him back from the brink, the office always smelled of potpourri and tea, which brought on the feeling of it being more like a bed and breakfast than a place where one exposed their personal traumas. Yet his most recent session had left him feeling jaded and doubtful of Dr. Gray's judgement, but he wasn't exactly the expert and deep down he felt that his fear was justified.  Bofur stared at the pill bottle in his hand, glaring at the instructions with a frown over his face and his brow furrowing to show frustration.  


***

_ "Now Bofur, it's only to help you focus a little better and hopefully relieve you of some anxiety you're enduring. It's quite safe!" _

_ "I don't--I didn't think this whole program thing was gonna require me to start downin' pills though? I thought--" _

_ "Bofur I'm here to  _ **_help you improve._ ** _ So far you've made leaps and bounds on your own--" _

_ "So why do I need medication?" _

_ "Because you're starting to relapse back into some bad habits that are red flags." _

_ Bofur looked hurt by the remark, disregarding the worried look Dr. Gray gave him as he stood up to wave a hand in dismissive frustration. _

_ "I just...don't think it's wise I get on the goat when it comes to pills, Gandalf. With how my family is and all, I mean you said it yourself that sometimes habits get inherited. Last thing I wanna do is go down that path again." _

_ "True, but these aren't exactly narcotics, Bofur. It's a low dosage and it'll help you not be so overwhelmed. Maybe even help with your restless fidgeting." _

_ Bofur was quick to stop bouncing his knee and picking at his ear at the pointed remark, only expressing more frustration that Dr. Gray had taken notice of his subconscious actions. _

_ "It's a small script. Take one pill after work or before bed since the side effect is some drowsiness, so it should help with your sleep issues as well." _

_ "Great, a sedative." _

_ "Bofur," Gandalf said in a calm tone of warning. "You're improving. See this as the next, successful step towards becoming a better person. A better  _ **_you_ ** _ that you can hold with high regard and confidence. Remember what I said?" _

_ "That-that this wouldn't be easy." _

_ "And?" _

_ "That I have to keep at it every day, when I'm able to, because it's hard work." _

_ " _ **_And?_ ** _ " _

_ "That it does get easier  _ **_if_ ** _ I  _ **_choose_ ** _ to keep going at it. That I have choices and the choices I make are my own." _

He still didn't like the idea of it all, but if they did help, then why not? Why was he so scared? They're just pills! Bofur felt exhausted in a way that he was all too familiar with and even thinking about the strain seemed to make the feeling amplify. A session with Gandalf mid morning, group therapy in the evening, then work? All he wanted to do was go home and curl up under the covers--to hide away from the world and drown his feelings with a drink.  _ God  _ he missed the taste of booze, missed how it made everything numb and slowed his mind down enough to disregard the judgement of others.

_ "You stupid sonofabitch! You're just like your fuckin mum! Get the hell outta my face!!" _

_ "Stop asking about him! He was a worthless piece of shit! He was just a bastard that fucked around, boy. He knocked me up and left us both behind!" _

_ "You said you wanted to party, babe. Here, slip this under your tongue and we'll have some  _ **_real_ ** _ fun!" _

_ "I'm sick and tired of bar hops and these half assed gigs, Bofur! Don't you ever wanna get out of this shit hole and--I don't know--do something more?  _ **_Be better?_ ** _ You could come with me, you don't have to keep chasing Nori around, we could get the fuck out and really make a name for ourselves!" _

_ *** _

Bofur flinched at hearing the all too familiar voices in his head that made his face scrunch up and his stomach ache something awful. The sickening swell of a lump at the back of his throat made him breathe a little harder as he tried to compose himself at hearing that last voice in his mind. Only now did he understand the desperate tone that had been used. He didn't realize it then at that moment since he was high, the uppers doing wonders to make his emotions supposedly "more in control", but he had been violent, on edge, and unsympathetic. Every time he heard that man's voice his body was wrought with the pangs of guilt so violent that he had to chase the pain away with a stiff drink or a joint. But there was no booze. No joint. No drugs to numb him from what he felt, that dreaded cold sweat clashing with a hot flash. Bofur started to breathe a little faster, heart racing, fists clenched, eyes wide and head down as he tried to get a hold of himself.

"Bofur?"

He tensed, back going straight as he turned his head fast to look at whomever had touched his forearm. He wanted to swing and lash out, being touched in such a raw state made everything sting in a way he couldn't explain. Yet he saw Bilbo looking up at him with blue eyes and blond brows pushed together with a worried look over his face. Bofur looked as if he were about to break down in tears, but he was quick to clear his throat and rub his face.

"Hey, are you alright?"

"I'm--yeah. Yeah! S'just the sniffles, ya know? Gettin' cold again!" Bofur said with a chuckle.

"Oh. I see, well I wanted to check in on you since you weren't as talkative as you usually are. You sure everything's okay?"

"Yeah!" He paused to have shoulders go slack. "Nah. No. Not really."

Bilbo gave a small 'ah' under his breath and nodded as he beckoned Bofur to take a seat. Most of the other FFR members had already left or were waiting for the bus on the corner, so the conference area was quiet enough for them to sit for a moment in peace. Bilbo insisted that Bofur take home the rest of the doughnuts, saying that they were either going to be thrown out to the raccoons in the alleyway, or he'd drop them off at the nearby shelter. Bofur was a little reluctant to open up at first, but then again, Bilbo was always so weirdly into getting to know his peers and the other FFR members. Compared to often being something of a Bible bumper, the guy was fairly more laid back and down to earth than what anyone expected.  Bofur went on to explain that he had had a rough session with his therapist, that he had fears of getting back on medication since it was pills that started him on the route of his addictions.  Almost a whole decade was spent on what plenty of folks called a Rock n' Roll bender; traveling from bar to pub in a tour bus, the money was great and the women were in droves. Partying damned near every other night, gigs at some pretty high end places to where all of them were almost on the road to fame if they had genuinely focused on their goals. Yet now here he was, scared like a pup getting hit trying to fight with himself and the advice of his therapist. Then there came his tangent over what happened with Tauriel, albeit he didn't go into detail of what had happened, Bofur did admit that a few repressed feelings for a loved one were exposed during a very vulnerable moment and all Tauriel did was laugh. Which only led to Bofur becoming obtuse and cold with her.

"Ah, that is quite a lot to juggle with, Bofur. I'm sorry you're going through this, but I'm curious. Are you and Tauriel.."

"We're sorta seeing each other."

" _ Oh Bofur _ ."

Bofur rolled his eyes hard at the judgmental undertones that he heard from Bilbo sighing at his actions.

"Is it because she's married?"

"Yes--no! It's just...I get it, alright? I can't judge what two grown adults do, but... _well_.."

"Out with it then!"

"You two aren't good for each other, but _I get it._ Both of you are hurting and going through a lot, both of you struggle with finding proper outlets to your issues, and both of you are having a mid life crisis of struggling to accept that you're not in college anymore."

"I never went to college!" Bofur said smugly.

Bilbo did a double take, his mouth opening and closing before giving Bofur an even stronger stare of judgement as he tried to connect the dots on such a statement. But Bofur was snorting that cheeky grin that made Bilbo's face go pink at the weird realization that this man was actually  _ cute  _ up close. Bilbo mumbled something while giving a dismissive wave of the hand in attempts to disregard as he spoke up again.

"If you want my advice--"

"I do very much! I always appreciate advice from friends."

Bilbo faltered  _ again _ , but cleared his throat. "My advice is this; if you want to get better then I suggest you follow your therapist's advice and start taking those pills. As for you and Tauriel.." he paused to inhale a deep breath, trying to find his words as to not offend or reveal any personal information. "As a  _ friend,  _ I'm  _ warning  _ you to stop seeing her."

Bofur frowned, ceasing with his cheeky smirks and playful banter to go still. Bilbo had the entirety of his attention now, all fidgeting and picking ceased as Bofur placed his hands in his lap to listen. "You've made leaps and bounds in FFR, Bofur. You're a strong man that's been through  _ hell.  _ Anybody with a keen sense of judgement can see that, but you're also  _ fragile.  _ At this very moment you're at a cumulative state in your life where you're clearly being tested and your actions are being judged. The last thing you need right now are  _ distractions  _ and Tauriel is a distraction that will eventually lead to some high risk consequences if you're not careful, Bofur. I'm saying this because deep down I feel like you could be a success  _ if you put the work into it." _

"So..I should stop seeing her?"

"I'm advising you,  _ as a friend _ , to stop having sex with her. Not because I believe her to be a bad person--"

"Do you?"

" _ Of course not!  _ Tauriel is a lovely woman, but she's a lovely woman  _ with problems _ that can and will bleed over onto yours. She's a human being with faults just like the rest of us, but  _ both  _ of you are here  _ to get better.  _ **_Not_ ** to search for love and romance. Stay on the path that you're on, focus on healing and doing good onto yourself  _ first _ , Bofur."

Bilbos words were damned near ominous in a way, Bofur felt deeply confused by it all, but he didn't speak up to ask questions no matter how hard he wished to. There was still the heckling of past voices pecking at his thoughts with banter of worthlessness and degradation, but the commotion was far quieter than usual since his attention was focused on Bilbo. It was strange how this man could ease his mind in such ways and it was oddly comforting that Bilbo took the title of being his friend in stride. They talked for a little longer, Bilbo reassuring Bofur of a few fears of taking medication by going on his own little tangent about his own mutual fear and even some points of his past with being an addict. Bofur was genuinely surprised by the admittance, Bilbo had always seemed like the sort of guy who was born and raised to mediate the Sunday Bake Sales and the brunch book clubs. Yet here he was with an uncanny past that Bofur could very much relate to.

"I suppose after hopping from jail to halfway house, I realized how deeply lost I was. It's a rather vicious cycle that isn't very easy to break and to be quite honest my future was very bleak."

"Is that why you got caught up in the church?"

"Sort of, yes. Volunteering at  _ this  _ church was what helped me get on the right path so to speak. I suppose a healthy outlet helps a lot in such factors, especially if the outlet distracts you from all these negative thoughts. Helping others out was a bonus!"

"Do you ya get, I dunno, those urges? You know, temptations to go back to that old life?"

"Every damn day, Bofur. It gets easier though, I promise," Bilbo said with a soft hum. Bilbo stood and dusted his pants to dry sweaty hands as he grinned up at Bofur adjusted the lop eared hat to follow him out the door.

Bilbo offered Bofur a ride to work, which pulled him out of his dour mood and they both clicked rather well with discussing their hobbies and habits. Bofur and Bilbo appeared to share a mutual affection for alternative music as well as a fondness for cooking even though they were mutually horrible at presentation and certain dishes. Bilbo loved to bake, he was something of a bookworm, and of course he was a God Loving Christian, but far more open minded than some of his holier than thou counterparts. At first, Bofur wasn't sure how to process that Bilbo was a hard hitting groupie in his earlier years, but it only went to show that he couldn't judge a book by its cover. If anything, Bilbo sharing such similar struggles was enough of an affirmation that he knew what he was talking about and that Bofur should genuinely take his advice to heart. Either way, it gave him a lot to meditate over during lunch break.  


\----

Bus rides home were always a little bit annoying from time to time given that you had to deal with an array of strangers bunched up too close for comfort, but the late night rides were always peaceful with only the occasional passenger. Bofur was one, an old man that was clearly homeless, and occasionally rowdy college students or drunk couples making out in the back. Bofur didn't pay much attention beyond an occasional glance out the window before looking back down at the pamphlet he had been given with his medication. A small argument over whether or not of he should start on the script was had before he tugged the water bottle from his jacket pocket and opened the cap of the pill bottle.

_ It gets easier though, I promise. _

Bilbos comforting words were an affirmation and he downed the pill in a fell swoop with a gulp of water. In an instant he felt a little anxious, worried that this was it; this was how it'd start over again. First the dosages would be upped by apathetic doctors brushing him off, then he'd run out  of prescription refills, then he'd become a little too dependent on how the medication made him feel. Other, cheaper outlets would be sought out. The booze was always the first step. A glass of whiskey or wine to help him sleep, then crusing from bar to bar on the weekends. A joint or two in the bathroom or out back. More booze. More weed. Then he'd want something stronger, something to calm his nerves and make him feel  _ really  _ good, but then he'd spiral and from there it was only a matter of time before he--

"Laketown Heights!"

Bofur blinked hard and stood to take his leave off the bus, gladly welcoming the smell of nicotine when he stepped in the lobby area to collect his mail. His anxiety had worn away by the time he managed to get into his apartment, yet he froze, standing straighter when he noticed the door slightly ajar and mentally prepared himself for the oncoming emotional hell of possibly being  robbed. Fists clenched tight, his boot did the talking by kicking the door open with all intentions to hopefully catch the robber in the act-- only to hear a shriek that made him yelp in surprise.

"The hell is wrong with you, North Boy!" Tauriel snapped loudly.


	5. Siren's Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A rather short chapter to tug things along. Poor Bofur has a god awful habit of not speaking up since he's got a pretty big fear of confrontation. Tauriel sure isn't making things easier either.
> 
> CW // Mentions of Drug Use

The night before in finding out that not only did Tauriel break into his apartment, but unexpectedly making the announcement that she would be staying with him for a few days drew a very awkward tension. Bofur was rather particular about his personal space, and although he adored the company, Tauriel was the last person he wanted to share space with. The entire ordeal breached their whole friends with benefits deal they had made, yet when Tauriel confessed that her and Kili were fighting again, that he had put hands on her, Bofur couldn't very well turn away a woman going through such hell. Deep down, he didn't actually believe Tauriel had been harmed since there were no bruises or marks on her body, but why speak up on it? Clearly she was in need of help. Still, Bilbo's words kept ringing in his head with apt warning every time she walked  by to get a drink from the kitchen. He was still somewhat tense when she tucked into his lap on the sofa while wearing nothing, but his old Black Sabbath t-shirt. Bofur held her as he would with any lover, hand tucked against hip and arm over shoulders to cradle close against his body as his attention was more on the television blaring late night talk shows. He had no idea what to say or do on all of this, his mind was elsewhere; fully engrossed with the argument going on within his own thoughts that was practically a war. He genuinely didn't want her here after their last situation, he was still bothered by all of that. Her laughter ringing in his mind didn't help a single bit and he had no idea how to approach that subject without lashing out.

"Bofur, what's this?"

Bofu blinked and tipped his head to glance at Tauriel who was busy running nails through his chest hair, playfully tugging at the gold necklace dangling as she studied the little cut in half game token with idle curiosity.

"That's from m'first gig I did with the band. Birthday party at a roller rink that went about as well as a birthday party usually does. It was for Mr. Mayer's kid, so he said if we did a good enough job at the party, he'd let us do a show on Saturdays in his bar. We cut a game token from the arcade to commemorate our success."

"Cute!"

Bofur smirked and bit his tongue at the downplay, distracted himself and his warring thoughts by leaning to grab the bottle of medication. Tauriel watched with scrutiny as he downed a pill and sucked on a bottle of water for a moment. He could smell something off on her that matched in tandem with her picking a little too much and the reek of sweat combined with soap and something metallic-like made a shiver go up his spine. He had seen Tauriel high before, only once, but all the signs of her acting out were being shone right in that moment; the cutesy act, the dilated pupils, dry lips, shaky hands, and restlessness. The fuck had she taken now?  


"So you gonna share or--"

"No? It's just for anxiety bullshit."

"Huh. Okay then. I'm gonna get to bed, you coming?"

"Nah not yet, still burnt out a bit from work."

Bofur watched Tauriel from the sofa, this time with a new sense of caution that he wasn't sure if he could trust her or not. It was all so abrupt how she decided to drop herself into his space without much warning and it did little to ease his anxieties of her ordeal. He didn't see a single bruise or mark on her body that indicated she had been struck or manhandled. Tauriel hadn't cried or in any way acted like a woman who had been battered, and  _ how did she get into his apartment?  _ Why was she so furious when she had been caught looking through his things? Why was she being so vague with what happened between her and Kili?

"Bofur?"

He clenched his jaw in frustration, annoyed that Tauriel was being so weirdly needy all of a sudden, but tipping his head back to look over his shoulder at her in response to hearing his name. Bofur blinked slowly, studying Tauriel tucked up against the pillows, hips and thighs tipped with leg curled upward somewhat. She gave a seductive smile, showing the softness of lips by biting the lower half, head bowed with red hair drawn halfway over her face that was brushed back behind her ear to expose the tip of neck and curve of bare shoulder. It made him weak in a way that he simply couldn't resist.

"Come tuck me in?" She crooned sweetly.

_ God fuckin' damnit..  _ Bofur stood to turn off the TV and lights, making the apartment go dark as he relented to Tauriel's beckoning yet again.


	6. Erebor Industries

"Can ya at least hold the ladder steady? Fuckin hell get off yer damn phone, mate!"

"Yeah yeah just change the bulbs!"

The rickety ladder didnt provide much comfort in security, nor did the distracted co worker, but at least Bofur was well enough with his hands to switch out the broken bulb before he fell. Once they were both finished cleaning and fixing the lights, Bofur had a moment to take a smoke break to think on a few things.

It had been well over two weeks since Tauriel left to go back to Kili. Bofur was a little put out that she had left, but at the same time there was a very weird relief to be had with having his personal space being his own again. Nevertheless, his priorities were his own and although it felt selfish (damned near vain), Bofur didn't  _ want  _ to go back to what he was and he felt that Bilbo was right; something about Tauriel simply made his gut instinct churn something harsh. He felt a little put out that he was blinded by such subtle warnings, yet rose tinted glasses often made red flags simply appear as ordinary flags. If anything, Bofur was going to distance himself from Tauriel here on out; he sent a text saying that he needed a break from their "relationship" and blocked her number, which felt a little harsh, but the last thing he wanted was for the entire ordeal to blow up in some way. That and Bofur simply wasn't a confrontational type of guy unless he had no choice in the matter.

Yet he had to focus on work and with his smoke break almost over, he wanted to savor the cool night by not piddling on so many negative thoughts clouding his mind. It was the creak of the back door opening that caught his attention, but he didn't bother looking as he kept hitting his cig, quietly staring up at the sky that showed a few brave stars. He felt eyes on him and heard footsteps that followed came with him side glancing a man that caught him very much off guard. Tall, distinguished, with dour features and blue eyes that were as cold as ice. The fine business suit was perfectly tailored to accentuate broad shoulders and equally broad frame, perfectly cut hair short and combed even, clean shaven though even from here Bofur could see the start of stubble starting to come in. Tip of tongue poked out and Bofur saw the slow drag of dry lips being licked as he replaced the tip of tongue with cig and the entire gesture made Bofur's stomach flip. His body grew warm and his ears burned under his hat as he forced himself to look away as the man messed around with a lighter with trying to get it to work. Bofur tipped to the side somewhat, hand offering his lighter as the man glanced down at his calloused knuckles before taking the lighter to lit the end of his cig before handing it back.

"Thanks."

"Not a problem."

Bofur didn't bother looking over at the man, but he could clearly feel eyes on him yet again that came with a subtle glance at seeing the man sizing him up. Bofur wasn't the least bit shy, nor did he seem to falter when the man moved closer to get a better inspection.

"You work here?"

"Yep."

"Custodial?"

"Yep."

The man tipped somewhat, staring at the peek of something poking out on the right side of Bofur's pocket that made him quickly reach out to grab before Bofur had the chance to turn and stop him. A light blue handkerchief was pulled from the righr side of his back pocket as Bofur hardly flinched from the man being so fast, let alone balking when he saw the curl of fingers feeling over the soft cloth that was given a turn.

"Haven't seen anyone use this trick since I was in highschool. How old are you?"

"Old enough to appreciate the old school tricks, but decent enough to not try with grabin' bloke's arses in public. Fuck ya want, mate?" Bofur asked while flicking his cig to knock free the ash.

The man seemed to observe Bofur for a few seconds longer before snorting out loud with amusement at such a bold statement. He liked the spunk and cheeky tone, even more he liked the smirk Bofur gave in return to his own smile that only made him toss back the handkerchief.

"Tell Dave that Mr. Oakenshield needs you up at his office. Light fixture in his office is broken and the sink's leaking again. You have ten minutes," the man said as he promptly turned away to step back inside.

Bofur squinted as he watched the strange man go back inside, clearly confused by the statement, but taking those words to heart as an order that maybe this guy was an associate to the head honcho himself, since he sure as hell looked the part. Still, Bofur didn't falter on the clearly suggestive tone. Instead, he finished up his cigarette and stomped it out on the ground before cooly stepping back inside to follow those instructions to the letter.

\-----

Bofur told his boss what was going on, how Mr. Oakenshield's assistant requested some help with some faulty light and leaky pipe in the office, Dave waved it off as a whatever and let Bofur take the tool kit to do what he needed to do. It was the first time since working for Erebor Industries that Bofur was allowed to go up to the upper levels on his own; it was a fairly large building, yet protocol insisted that he wasn't allowed on the top floors without supervision given his criminal record and lack of seniority, but he could see why. The upper floors, even with them being office cubicles, was quite high end and inviting. The break rooms were big, the restrooms were immaculate, and everything felt as if the entire area had been sanitized from head to toe in sanitizing soap and bleach wipes. He kept moving until he came upon the carpeted hallway that led up to a service desk that was empty, but Bofur moved past that, knocking on the adjacent door that was answered by the sound of the same man beckoning him to enter. More carpeted flooring came with a damn near luxurious office with a skyline view of the city below that was just breathtaking and caught Bofur off guard for a few seconds before his eyes darted every which way to look over the interior.

"Like the view?"

"Yeah. Where's Mr. Oakenshield?"

The man smirked at Bofur from his seat to tip back and tap with pin tapping against his chin.

"Mr. Oakenshield's already clocked out and gone home for the day. What's your name?"

"Bofur. You?"

"Thorin."

"I ain't here to fix the pipes, am I?"

Thorin casually reached over to close his laptop and smirked up at Bofur again while adjusting the silver rimmed glasses to find Bofur's ignorance and wit showing itself all in one fell swoop. Thorin went about explaining with a very prompt tone; he was still something of a closeted man and didn't want to be out and proud until he was fully retired, but it didn't stop him from wanting to sate an urge or two. Of course he had been eyeing Bofur for a while from afar and liked what he saw, but he hadn't had a chance to approach until now, admitting thar he had never been entirely tactful when it came to flirting. Still, he was curious of Bofur and was keen on at least wanting to sample him for some company of he wished.  Bofur wasn't entirely sure how to process all this information. On one hand, Thorin was  _ very  _ attractive and it had been some time since he'd been with a man, let alone someone a bit older than him. Part of Bofur struggled over intimacy with other men, he had favored feminine frames over masculine for so long that he wasn't even sure if he could be with anyone masculine anymore. At least not since--

"Are you wanting to take this-this…"interest" down a certain path? Like are ya wantin' to eventually have some kind of relationship or..?"

Thorin rolled his eyes upward and hummed low in thought at the question that made him chew on the clap of his pin as he gave a small shrug at the idea.

"It would depend how  _ this  _ goes first. I'm not looking for the love of my life or a soul mate, far too old for such teenage bullshit, but I can admit that what I am seeking is  _ company,  _ Bofur. If and when it does go down that route, then we would discuss such subjects as they arrive, but for now? I want to have some fun behind closed doors."

"Ah.." Bofur trailed off a bit, trying to think on the matter as if he were under a time limit. He felt sweat dripping from his brow as he averted his gaze and pressed sweaty palms along the side of his hip to dry them.  _ You're a strong man that's been through hell. Anybody with a keen sense of judgement can see that, but you're also fragile.  _ Bilbo's words rang in his mind as he clenched his fist tight to look down at the floor, the pressure making his heart start to race as he looked back at Thorin.

"I--"  _ The last thing you need right now are distractions  _ "I appreciate the interest. Really--I do! Yer a handsome bloke that could literally pick up on any fellow he'd like, but.." Bofur cleared his throat to look away with hand rubbing the back of his neck with awkward shame. "I'm kinds going through some shit and I don't think it's wise to take up this offer right now. A..possibly good offer at that, but still, I can't let m'self get caught up with other folks right now when I'm trying to improve-- _ everything." _

Thorin was quiet for some time, clearly thinking on everything Bofur said before speaking entirely on the subject. He stood to face the window for a minute longer before clearing his throat.

"That's a surprising twist to this whole evening. I wasn't expecting to be turned down?"

"Trust me, I usually wouldn't be taking this route, but if you still wanna talk then I don't mind having a chat or two during break? Ya look like you need a friend more than anything else, 'specially since it looks like yer stuck in Mr. Oakenshield's office all night."

Thorin laughed again, head shaking as he seemed content with the suggestion that only drove him to turn and look over Bofur with a newfound mirthful smirk on his face as he moved to pat him on the shoulder.

"Get back to work, Bofur."


	7. Inspection

Home had never been pined for in a way as it had over the following week. Between work, therapy, and spending the occasional time with Thorin to chat it up, Bofur barely had time to attend FFR sessions, which started to raise a few flags that caused his parole officer to make an unexpected visit. Check ins were the norm from the start; routine inspections to ensure they knew that the situation was serious. Most of the time parolees didn't make it past the first three inspections, but Bofur has flew through with flying colors. Nevertheless, Dwalin was a hard ass that found it justifiable to investigate if even  _ one _ of his parolees stepped out of line. To him, Bofur was just like every other sleazy bastard that found themselves sitting in front of his desk; riddled with bullshit excuses and doomed to repeat their mistakes until they were locked up for good. So maybe he was a bit harsh and too judgmental, it came with the territory from being on the force for too damn long only to be thrown at some petty paper pusher guy babysitting druggies and felons that he deemed would never be fit for society, that was just statistics and the facts were simply never wrong in his eyes. Though Dwalin had to admit, Bofur was making some traction with the whole FFR program, he saw it as a bunch of nonsense, but these days his opinion didn't matter much beyond the courtrooms. Still, Bofur had fucked up and it was all protocol for him to do a random check in. What he found was of no surprise; a messy apartment, Bofur still half asleep and half naked fumbling about trying to find a clean shirt to put on all the while with managing the messy mop of brown hair on his head.

"It's a fuckin pig sty in here."

"Didn't know you were comin."

"Whole goddamn point. Sit."

Bofur didn't protest, but there was a clear expression of disdain and wrath painted over his face that Dwalin ignored as he started to take a more detailed gander around the apartment. Drawers were opened, cabinets sifted through, the back of the toilet seat opened and inspected before moving onto checking the closet and underneath the kitchen sink.

"You takin your meds?"

"Yeah, was gonna get the refill today."

"Still seein, Gandalf?"

"Jesus Christ-- _ yes!" _

_ " _ No reason to snap, mate. Ya know the rules, I gotta do these check-ins. They ain't fun for me either, m'missin' the game right now."

He'd hate to admit it, but Dwalin did sort of like Bofur to some extent. He showed promise, but he was still a skeever felon that had guts and didn't back down when met with hostility like his counterparts. Nah. Bofur was a cheeky bastard that knew when to pick and choose his battles, so he was smart. Which meant that he could be  _ cunning  _ and  _ sneaky _ if he actually had the gumption to genuinely want to get the better of this whole ordeal. It was the main reason why that when Dwalin did come around to heckle Bofur, he did push too hard sometimes. Proverbial "tough love" of a nagging figure that genuinely did hope to see Bofur thrive.

"When's the last time you went to FFR?"

"S'been about...a week or two?"

"Why you stop goin?"

"I'm working."

Now that made Dwalin stop with his train of thought and scribbling away on his clipboard to look down with a raised brow at Bofur.

"Ya only work part time. Ain't no excuse to be missin' those meetin's, lad."

"I've been practically working full time since this week, which has been kinda fuckin with my sleep schedule. Also these goddamn pills Dr. Gray has me on makes me drowsy as hell. I take'em when I get home from work and I'm out for most of the day!"

"Yeah yeah whatever, that still ain't no reason to be missin' those meetin's."

"I  _ called  _ Bilbo  _ last fucking week _ and apologized for my absence, he told me that it was fine and that he was going to talk to  _ you  _ about a this!"

"Well, this sounds like a whole lotta excuses, Bofur! The fuck you want me to do about that?"

"Maybe do your goddamn job for once! God forbid!"

Dwalin went quiet to observe Bofur before exhaling an exasperated sigh before moving to sit down on the sofa next to Bofur. Clipboard tucked under arm and elbows resting on knees came with a thoughtful hum.

"For every ten scumbags tha' come in and out of my office, I usually get one or two moderately decent ones that give me some hope to keep goin with this stupid job."

Dwalin took a moment to scratch his forearm while snorting a small chuckle to smirk at Bofur. "Dunno what's lit fire on your arse, but you gotta get to these meetings, Bofur. They're important and look good on your record that you're so hellbent to get cleaned again."

"It's a pain in the ass, Dwalin. How do you lot expect me to juggle a job, two therapy sessions  _ a week,  _ medication,  _ and  _ all the other nonsense?"

"Ya do what everyone else does, laddie; one day at a time. I hate to say it, but this be the bed you've made, Bofur. Ya spent decades pissin' around doin' God knows what, barely learned a damned thing and now yer here. Look at it this way; you're improving. That ain't easy for anybody."

"So what do I do?"

"I'll see if I can get Gandalf to change your scheduling up a bit, wave the messy apartment too, but ya gotta keep attendin' those group meetings. There any real reason you ain't wantin' to go?"

Bofur clenched his jaw at the question and rubbed the side of his cheek that came with lazy scratches over thick sideburns. He gave a slow nod, unsure if he should tell Dwalin everything or merely keep it limited to the basics. In the end, he did explain to Dwalin a little bit of his conflicts with Tauriel, but omitted her name for both of their sakes. Dwalin hummed low and stood, tucking his clipboard under his opposite arm and adjusting his jacket.

"I say this as as a bloke who's monitoring yer stupid arse on a daily basis and as a mutual who's been where you're at right now; ditch the bird, Bofur. No good fuck is worth getting thrown back in the clink. She's distracting ya and you letting her. Yer better than that," he said while taking a few notes and taking his leave. Yet Dwalin stopped at the doorway to take a final look around the apartment. "Clean yer place up. Smells like good cheese in here."

Bofur exhaled hard, shoulders going slack and body damned near limp, he flopped himself back against the sofa to pinch the bridge of his nose. He didn't want to go back to the group sessions and even thinking about them had made his stomach ache in ways that he could only describe as dread given that he knew that if he went, then eventually he'd run into Tauriel who would probably demand questions and draw confrontation. It had been a subject that he had spoken to Gandalf with, wishing for his input and advice on the whole ordeal, but the old man tended to filter himself too much to his liking. He spoke with a vague mindset of asking him questions in return or curious on how it all made him felt. The usual, generic psycho-babble that therapists often used to run circles around their patients. He had heeded Bilbo's advice and ceased interaction with Tauriel, that much alone Gandalf could agree with that she did have the potential to be a wayward distraction, but his main affair was if  _ how  _ he managed the situation was just. It riddled Bofur's mind with questions that kept him up at night and Gandalf had been curious if he wanted something stronger, which he promptly refused.  At least that was one particular positive in his life; Bofur's anxiety had declined greatly, though in his mindset he declared that nobody could really have anxiety if they were knocked out so much. Then again, the days were far more peaceful and it wasn't because he felt numb or his mind was empty, but it was  _ quiet  _ to where he couldn't hear the commotion of doubtful or hostile voices. Bofur found himself not lashing out as much and he felt that the very little things that had once been seen as a very big deal were now not as straining. Just as important, but greatly insignificant to where he could quietly disregard and put to the side for later. Yet it still didn't keep his fears at bay. Sooner or later he  _ had  _ to face Tauriel and apologize for ghosting her without a more concise explanation. On the bright side, at least he was getting the opportunity to talk to Bilbo again.


	8. Bard the Bowman

"I'm tryin' to apologize and you're being a royal bitch about this!"

"You fucking ghosted me!"

"You're on the powder and ridin' high, Tauriel! The fuck you think I was gonna do?! Why are you even here if you're not even gonna bother to fix yourself up!"

Tauriel kept cool, but brow twitched and hands shook as she lit a cigarette while avoiding the drip drop of rainfall from the storm gutters above. As predicted, Tauriel had approached Bofur the moment she saw him step off the bus. The conversation started off awkward, Bofur being greatly aloof and dismissive up until Tauriel finally showed that all to familiar anger she had a reputation for. It evolved into an argument that almost became a shouting match if Bofur hadn't warned that the last thing they needed was Bilbo or anyone else coming out to investigate. Bofur looked tense and frustrated, his back to a wall as he turned around to cross his arms over his chest, doing his best to stay calm. Tauriel blew smoke from his mouth and held her cig between her fingers as she gave a smug smirk at his back.

"I'm really living rent free in your head. N'aww poor baby!"

"I wanted to do right by you. I realized that the way I handled ditchin' ya like that wasn't right, but you broke into my house--you were high as hell that night--"

"And you fucked me."

Bofur was just about to go on a violent tangent, ready to spill out everything with how he felt about the entire ordeal, how he felt about her and her bullshit. Yet all he could do was stand there with shoulders shaking and fists clenched tight before exhaling a deep breath to let shoulders sag and hand rise to push his hat back so he could scratch his head in thought.

"Yeah. Yeah I did," he said with a sad chuckle. "I knew it was a mistake, ya know? Fuckin' around with a married woman and all."

"We're kind of separated right now--"

"Nah. No you ain't, Tauriel."

"Yeah we a--"

"You're wearin' new boots and ya still got the tag on yer new purse, so obviously you're still takin' Kili's money. Jesus Christ, Tauriel if yer gonna lie to me then at least put some goddamn effort into it for fuck's sake!"

Tauriel shrugged dismissively, blew more smoke from her mouth as she flicked the cigarette on the ground to crush it out before moving towards Bofur to press palms against his chest, gently running hands up under his jacket to press along his shoulders. Fingers raked against his hairline as Bofur looked up at Tauriel to take in the scent of her perfume. Lilacs and pine lingered with nicotine made his nose sting as he quietly held his breath to try and not look her directly in the eye.

"Tauriel, I'm so sorry."

"Hey, it's okay," she murmured softly while tugging gently at his hair.

"N-no just--please let me explain? I care about you. A lot. I didn't want this--" he waved his hand between them a little. "--to end, but it had to. It might've been different if you and your husband were separated or hell even outright divorcing, but you're not. That and I'm tryin to get better, right? I ain't got the money and freedom to have my record wiped clean, that and you're using coke--"

"Bofur I'm not--"

"Ya left a line on m'bathroom sink when you left that morning, Terri. You might be drop dead gorgeous, but you ain't a subtle bird, love. Ya need help."

"Are you going to tell?"

"Who the fuck am I gonna tell? Why would I? It isn't my business, but I still wanna see you do better. _You deserve better._ "

"So this is it then? No more late night visits? No more hanging out?"

She sounded as if she were trying to hold back tears, but Bofur could tell that there was anger in her voice. Bofur sighed slowly as he reached up to pull Tauriel's hands free from behind his neck. He kissed her knuckles gently, but Tauriel jerked her hand away in revulsion as of she had been burned by a hot stove.

"You know what, Bofur? I don't know why you keep trying to play this good boy role as of you're not some fucking lowlife like the rest of us. But whatever! You do you I guess! It's fine! I already got someone else to hang out with, so I guess your apology's kinda wasted at this point."

"Yeah..well..okay, Tauriel. _I tried._ That's better than doing nothing at all. Don't get too wet out here and tell yer' new pal I wish him all the luck in the world. He's gonna need it," Bofur clipped back as he took his leave to step back inside.

The evening session of therapy was about to start, a few of the others were mingling around the table getting themselves a few cookies and a cup of coffee before settling into their seats. Bofur lingered somewhat at the table, trying to get his own concoction of sugar and cream mixed up before opting to take a seat and sit back. Tauriel sat across from him glowering though he paid little mind as his attention was looking down at his phone. Three missed calls from an unknown number had his brows furrowing as he zoned in and out of Bilbo going over the routine announcements; bake sale on Sunday, soup kitchens changing their schedule for earlier hours due to day light's savings time, bus schedule changes being passed around on little cards. Backup reviews of what they went over on Monday for those who weren't present, yet Bilbo paused a moment to look around, counting the seats that were all full and scoffing low.

"Has anyone heard from our newest member? He was supposed to be here this evening and--"

The doors suddenly opened and those with their backs to it turned, Bofur was still browsing a text message or two and not entirely paying attention and Bilbo beamed with familiarity.

"Oh good, you made it!"

"Sorry for being late. Taxi driver let me out a street behind so I had to walk the rest of the way."

"Oh that's right, I forgot they've been doing construction on this street. Well! It's a pleasure to have you back, Bard. Go ahead and pull up a seat! Right, now to business, as I mentioned earlier we were going to discuss healthy outlets and safer alternatives to keep one's mind focused and on the path. Now, I've compiled a small list of basic ideas that could help all of you.."

Bofur turned it all out, he was staring directly at the man, watching the slow gesticulations as he gathered some coffee and a few cookies to take a seat right next to Tauriel. Bard was tall and damned near six-three if he stood on tiptoes. Black hair that was long and shaggy with graying streaks that were going white at the root. Sunken eyes dark and piercing showed a man who had been wrung through the ringer one too many times. The way he carried himself expressed a man that had been through some sort of hell one way or another. The stubble of beard growing in, the thin line of a mouth that pursed tight. Low brow and prominent cheekbones met with strong jawline and solid neck, broad shoulders and well built frame showed promise, but the years clearly hadn't been oh so friendly to Bard. Even from here Bofur could see that one too many beers had given Bard something of a belly and age was starting to catch up with how the crinkles along the corners of eyes and deepening of dimples along the mouth gave way to an awkward smirk towards Bilbo. He spoke up--by God his voice still sounded the same; deep and warm, but there was a scratchy baritone to his words as Bard seemed to speak softer now. He didn't speak like a man who radiated that young confidence from years ago. How he held himself up, the way he stooped in his seat, the way his clothes were old and worn. Bard had never been one for the aesthetics of appearance if he could help it, but there were some standards that had been breached and Bofur could tell that  _ something  _ had happened to make this once proud lion of a man look so sullen and defeated. Bofur sat perfectly still until Bilbo spoke his name and eyes quickly darted to the floor to stare down at the floor. All his attention was at his boots now, examining the caked on dirt and grime, focusing on the thought process of needing to clean them one way or another. Anything to not look up or think on--

"Bofur?"

He heard his name exhale with surprise from Bard's mouth and flinched as if he'd been struck, but he still didn't look up. Bard was smirking though, those dark eyes showing sorrow and remorse, but mouth closed tight to keep himself from speaking up out of turn. It felt as if both of them were the only ones in the room at that moment, unable to look at each other, but being forced to endure the other's presence without much consent. Echoes of the past wrought through Bofur's mind; things that had transpired, the brays and bellows of his own consciousness berating him for prior actions.  _ Why did you do that? Who do you think you are? What the fuck is wrong with you!? _

Heart pounded, palms clenched so tight that nails drew blood, eyes were wide and head was down to where Bofur could feel the cold drip of sweat down the back of his neck. Murmuring snarls of degradation and shame, the vision of Bard's face expressing revulsion at catching him in the act of binging. Bofur wasn't sure how long everything was, it felt like an eternity and all he could do was stay put and keep his head down until everything was over. Yet it was a warm hand on his shoulder that hooked him away from the ever yawning feel of that pit engulfing him deep, Bilbo was there, jostling him a bit to pry him free and Bofur blinked hard to look up at Bilbo standing over him and bit the inside of his cheek to clear his throat.

"Goodness, you look like you've seen a ghost, Bofur. Are you alright?"

\-----

Bard sat solemn in the booth with a cigarette in hand while holding a beer bottle in the other. Tauriel giggling and laughing away with a few other ladies from FFR decided to join them for a late night hangout before retiring for the night, but he wasn't entirely listening in on the conversations, he was more focused on the free fries and his own wandering thoughts that were plaguing him in that moment. It had been almost ten years since he last saw Bofur and it was only now had he realized how much had transpired from then up until now. Of course this came up with some of the ladies and Tauriel between introductions. Bard was part of a band, a lead singer and his skills with the bow got him to the high life of being a solo music artist. Yet with all the glitz and glamour that came with a few one hit wonders, he burnt through the money pretty fast. Got married, then divorced, she got to keep the kids for the time being, then getting locked up left him in a pretty dour state after one too many drunk driving incidents led to him wanting to get cleaned up and back on order. The remainder of his cash that wasn't gouged by child support and paying of the remaining debts was just enough to get him an apartment. It was a struggle trying to find a group therapy he sat well with and in all honesty he had browsed through the usual; sex, alcoholism, meth, and the like that all had theor groups of prayer and hugs that it eventually became something of a hobby. What better place to find that sense of community than with those that were seen as insignificant to common society? Until Bilbo had seen him one too many times and confronted him on why he was going to a sex addicts anonymous group  _ and  _ men with impotence group all in the same week. Bilbo could have reported and put in a warning about who he was, but instead he had been invited to sit in on a few sessions of FFR since it seemed he needed some genuine help. Even though Bard had a few DUIs under his belt, he had to admit; FFR was doing  _ something  _ to keep him on a steady path to being clean. Well.. _ almost  _ clean. He wasn't about to go completely cold turkey, but going from his daily binges of six cans down to only three bottles was a start in his eyes.

"So how do you know Bofur?" Tauriel asked as she licked her thumb to give a cheeky grin.

"Him and I go back a bit. He was the bassist and backup singer for our band. We had a mutual friend who was on drums, but I've not heard from either of them in ages--Bofur still looks sort of the same," Bard said carefully as he leaned back against the booth seat. "He used to be thinner. Good to see he's at least in better shape"

Tauriel scoffed angrily and rolled her eyes as she flicked her cigarette against the ashtray. Bard averted his attention to look out the window as the ladies started speaking again, but he noticed Bilbo stepping out only to be followed by a man in a familiar floppy hat which made him stand up quickly to climb over the booth seat, he stopped short when Tauriel grabbed his sleeve and tugged hard to make him stay put.

"Where ya goin, babe?"

" _ Babe? _ " Bard repeated, confused that Tauriel was giving him pet names so suddenly.

The look made her falter, almost flinch I'm a way as she let him go to watch Bard clamor over the booth seats and slip right out the front door to try and catch up with Bilbo and Bofur.

\-----

"Are you sure you're alright? You looked like as if you were having a panic attack," Bilbo asked as he shook his umbrella dry while Bofur leaned against his pickup truck.

"Yeah, sometimes those happen. I'm fine though, you worry too much."

" _ I care. _ Which is clearly something you're not entirely used to."

"Not from librarians," Bofur teased.

"Lib--" Bilbo stopped short to look down. The khaki tan trousers were a little wrinkled, thick, dark green sweater vest, and dark brown loafer shoes that made Bilbo scoff loudly. Bofur laughed as he tucked his hands into his pockets to grin wide at his own cheeky little jab whole Bilbo rolled his eyes. Yet Bilbo looked over in time to see a figure approach that made Bofur's fidgeting instantly stop to go completely still. Bilbo took note of Bofur's abrupt shift in demeanor with a side glance before he pulled himself together to clear his throat and greet Bard with his ever so welcoming smile.

"I'm not interrupting, am I?"

"Not at all, Bard! Did you enjoy the meeting?"

"Uh..yeah. It was very informative. You're a good speaker, Bilbo."

"Why thank you! It's actually ironic you say that because I used to--"

"Right, I'll see ya later, mate. Gotta get to work," Bofur interrupted quickly as he turned away.

Bofur didn't linger for small talk--he couldn't. He couldn't do much of anything in that moment beyond forcing his legs to get him out, to get him away and escape seeing  _ him _ again. He could smell the cologne lingering with the heat of body that cut through the funk of the inner city pollution, the smell of tobacco and bourbon on the breath clashing with rainwater and oil. It made Bofur weak in a way that nothing ever really did, but at the same time it made his stomach churn with a revolting ache of guilt. He couldn't speak to Bard--couldn't even be in the same vicinity of him in that moment with fears that he'd say or do something that he might regret.

The bus ride to work felt almost like an illusion, Bofur couldn't even remember getting aboard the bus, let alone stepping off to check the time only to realize almost a half hour had passed. Even worse, time seemed to skip forwards yet again as work felt like a mixed blurring sensation as if he had been dropped in an oily mess of colors. Bofur felt as if his body was smothered by something thick to where his limbs felt like lead and his mind was doggie than an English morning. His emotions had been pushed back and he went about his duties as robotic as possible, keeping socialization to a bare minimum of work related subjects. It was only when he got a call to change the paper towels in Mr. Oakenshield's office did he blink hard enough to yank himself out of the thickening fog to make his way upon the upper floors. Thorin greeted him with smiles and a pat on the back as if he were an old friend. Glasses of brandy were poured, Bofur was offered a glass as Thorin leaned up against the desk to start conversing about his day; the incompetence of his employees, how he had meeting after meeting, the frustrations of enduring fiscal technicalities. Bofur seemed to stare down at the offered glass, watching the slow swirl of the dark amber liquid that made him give a slow inhale as he finally rose his head to tip it back, chin up, to shoot down the sample before slamming the glass down on the nearby shelf.

Bofur looked upon Thorin who watched him shoot back the bourbon that wasn't entirely supposed to be drank down like shots of vodka, so he quietly judged while tapping his finger at his own glass. As far as he could tell, Mr. Oakenshield wasn't around and by how Thorin put it the "Boss Man" had gone home for the day with the rest of the busy-body lot. Bofur didn't even seem to care about the judgement over his drinking habits, all eyes were on Thorin while weighing his thoughts out entirely before clearing his throat to speak.

"You wanna fuck?"


	9. The Quiet Hours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: Sex/NSFW

Bofur stood quietly at the bus stop, watching the first peeking lights of sunrise climb over the horizon against great skyscrapers and towering buildings. Hues of pink and orange contrasting against what remained of the night skies brought forth starlight and a soothing hue that only could be enjoyed in fleeting moments. He was a night owl by nature, someone who struggled and went against the norm of sleeping for eight hours straight. Sure, it was insomnia forged by the ever pressing hammer of anxiety beaten into his skull at times, but truly Bofur adored the night life. One of those rare times was at that very moment; when everything was completely quiet even within the big city. Party goers and drunks slowly dragging themselves up off the club floor or off the curbs like the undead rising from their graves. Their friends dragging them along, hailing taxis with slack jawed groaning, some laughing stupidly, others vomiting and trying to hold their balance to the best of their abilities. Hookers and prostitutes sneaking out of motel rooms, skirting away to adjust stockings and straps of high heels while fixing their makeup. Another night of productivity of hand jobs and empty praise for those who couldn't obtain long term affections. Strippers strutting out of joints counting their cash, catcalled by the drunks who were quick to back off when the bouncer got between them and the girls. Homeless folk crawling out of alleyways and overpasses where they established their own habitats emerged to claim the best spots for the day in Hope's to get enough change to buy a pack of smokes or a burger. Businessmen leaving their offices, others waking up to come in early, hellbent to beat morning rush hour. The smell of stores and shops starting to open, bakers baking, coffee pots percolating, the steam and hiss of grills being doused and cleaned for prep. And between it all, there was a strange yet oddly resonating  _ quiet  _ that could only be experienced by those who didn't--couldn't follow the monotonous flow of society's expectations. A world within a world that Bofur had lived within ever since he was nineteen and a proverbial "paradise" that had its blessings and sins meshed into a forever melting pot of booze, drugs, and a chaos so subtle that the common Man would never be able to endure every day. Yet here Bofur was, standing at the bus stop having a cigarette, taking that rare moment to just  _ breathe  _ and appreciate the sunrise.

The bus ride home made him sore in ways to where he wish he could stand, but Bofur did his best to disregard the stinging ache that made his jaw clench tight. It was an all the more reminder of what had happened and all he honestly wanted to do was simply forget it had ever happened. Why did he do it? Why did he let it happen? Of all places! What if someone found out? What if he got fired? What if-- _ I would like to just not go through this right now?! _ He thought to himself as he pried the pill bottle from his pocket and water bottle from his bag. A quick chug of water had him looking out the window and doing his breathing exercises, counting back from thirty with all intentions to push away flickering memories that flashed every which way every time he closed his eyes.

*****

_ No kissing. No hair pulling. Keep hands down at all times unless it's wanted.  _ **_Keep quiet._ **

_ He had known there were restrictions and rules to this, but it was a quick fuck. They both wanted it. Or so he thought. Nah. He didn't really want it, but he wanted to feel wanted. Wanted to feel that false sense of security, comfort, and acceptance that could only be obtained from another person. Thorin pinned him against the table, he could feel hands under his shirt, his own hands reaching up to unclip the suspender of work overalls and the familiar sag of denim along his hips that was quickly replaced by Thorin's hands pushing overalls down to expose long john slacks, those were pulled down as well, the chuckle came with an impressed tone coming from Thorin about his package. Bofur was well equipped, a heavy ballsack partnered with an equally heavy prick that was already half hard against cotton boxer briefs--only became harder when Thorin touched him, strong hands stroking shaft, feeling the throbbing twitch that made him exhale low. Thorin complimented him again as he pulled a chair up behind himself, sat down to press open mouth against warm bulge that made Bofur gasp low. His ears were ringing, he couldn't hear the praise, all he wanted to do was forget--to  _ **_feel something_ ** _ just for a moment. Thorin pulled the helm of his underwear down somewhat, cock pried free, twitching and demanding more attention. The darker skin matched perfectly with the thick patch of pubic hair, made the scent of sweat from working and soap from bathing cling to his flesh. Uncut skin folded over the head which made Thorin stroke in quiet awe--he'd not been with someone uncut since college, it made Bofur give a fake smirk as he gripped the edge of the desk, hitched a breath when Thorin leaned in to mouth his balls, the slow lick of tongue made him hitch a breath and hiss hard before mouth graced the shaft, a suckling press of lips pinched gently, his cock throbbed, Thorin stroked again to milk the first few beads of clear precum that was swiped against thumb. _

_ Thorin's mouth felt  _ **_good_ ** _. Warm. Soft lips, the itchy-tickle of beard against his ballsack, mustache along his groin, the way his head bobbed up and down slowly. That slow swirl of tongue had Bofur practically groaning, but he swallowed it back just as Thorin swallowed a mouthful of his precum and spit that made Bofur shiver as his hand reached down to hold the back of Thorins neck. Those sharp blue eyes looked up at him in warnings Bofur looked back with reassurance that hair wasn't going to be pulled. He felt it though, felt pleasure that he hadn't felt since he and Tauriel had been together. Yet just like Tauriel it felt.. _ **_empty._ ** _ Hollow and false all at the same time. Bofur didn't stop Thorin though and he encouraged with a few wanting thrusts that made the man press on, cheeks caving somewhat as he pushed his hard cock further into his mouth to let head bump against the back of his throat. _

_ ***** _

Bofur stood in the elevator of Laketown Heights, deadpan with his blurry reflection from the stainless steel smudged all over looking back at him. Stomach churned with aches and head throbbed with a need for a hot meal and sleep that only drove Bofur pining for a shower yet again. He felt dirty all of a sudden, like a thick layer of crust and grime clinging to skin, his hair greasy with clumps of dandruff clinging to roots, eyes sticky, teeth filmed over, a gross and slimy funk that made his stomach churn violently and made him drive heave as he stepped off the elevator to practically run down the hall and into his apartment. Door slammed behind him, belongings dropped on the floor, and boots stomping came with him stumbling towards the bathroom to fall to his knees and vomit into the toilet, hugging it for dear life as if it were the only thing keeping him afloat. Bofur heaved and choked hard with eyes watering and throat burning as he threw up his lunch and even parts of breakfast. With mouth now sour and stomach empty, Bofur still felt disgusting, even more so now that he had vomit and spittle over his beard that he tried to wipe away with the back of his hand. Now more than ever he needed a shower and the thought of getting clean felt like a blessing.

*****

_ He was pushed atop the desk, Thorin was pulling long johns down enough to duck between his legs, hands fumbling around with tearing open a condom to slide on his own cock. Bofur hadn't even seen Thorin's prick, Thorin didn't bother to indulge him in such curiosities as he leaned to tuck between his thighs. Neck was kissed, Bofur tipped his chin up to huff out a low breath as he felt his face grow warm, but the fleeting affections were just that--no hugs or intimacy was had as Thorin reached over to tug open a drawer and shuffled about to grab the bottle of lube. An awkwardly tense moment of Bofur laying there on the desktop, knees bent and the awkward bump of boot along Thorin's side to encourage him to hurry up. Underwear and long johns hanging from his ankles with boots still on made the situation all the more awkward before cold, wet fingers pressed, Bofur hitched a low noise and a sharp hiss as the pain he felt that caused his leg to jerk somewhat. Thorin had stopped, apologizing, but Bofur insisted he keep going as he tugged his own shirt up to try and stroke his cock to at least get something out of all this. Yet belly against belly caused him to exhale slowly, two knuckle deep with fingers slowly sliding in and out that made his cock twitch and jump to attention as the smear of spit and precum streaked between the thick patch of hair beneath their belly buttons. _

_ Bofur felt fingers pry themselves free, felt the replacement of condom and a hard cock. The slow push in, he tasted Thorin's strong cologne, felt the all too familiar heat flood within. He tensed up, his hole clenched, Thorin groaned low and rolled his hips, going slow and steady at first, Bofur held his breath and had to close his eyes. It didn't feel right, didn't feel the same. He wanted to stop, wanted to get up and apologize, but Thorin sounded so happy. The table jostled under his weight, hands grappled his hips and ass, squeezed to leave crescent welts pink against tan skin, the tight knotting bundle of nerves made him clench again as Bofur rode the ordeal out. What the fuck. Why wasn't he liking this? Why did it feel so empty? Any other time he would have been moaning and grabbing Thorin. He had wanted this at the beginning--Thorin was fucking hot. His type! Had a fat dick and was holding him just right, the way his hips rolled and bounced, the way he pumped his cock in and out of him with mounting speed, hitting that spot that sent shockwaves of pleasure up his stomach and spine had him gasping and sweat dripping from his sideburns. Bofur should have been adoring that slick, warm feel of a lube up cock and a wealthy man fucking him two ways from Sunday! Yet all he could do was hang on and take small breaths as Thorin leaned in, tipped his hips a bit to fuck him deeper while legs wrapped around his waist, pubic groin pressing taint and balls smacking his ass, the wet, sticky noise of sex muffled by the fake groans he exhaled slowly into Thorin's ear. Bofur could feel him getting close, the frantic thrusts followed by the thick grinds pushing in as deep as that cock could go came with Thorin barking out a muffled string of moans against his neck. He could feel his cock spasm and twitch violently, his own neglected and left wet and red sandwiched between their thighs wasn't thought on as Thorin slowed and laid atop him for a few moments to collect himself. _

_ ***** _

Bofur stood in the shower, eyes closed and slow breaths to take in the warm air that surrounded him. Steam rose to cloud his vision and hand reached out to turn the nozzle which allowed the temperature of the water to rise. He breathed deep, tried to keep himself composed, but with each and every breath he was gasping. The water scalding his body made skin flush pink and part of him was thankful that he could feel the pain that made him sob. It was stifled and small, but it was more than enough to make him sob again, he felt tears fall onto his cheeks and for some reason they felt hotter than the shower. His heart started to race and mind spun at the sickening realization of what had happened-- _ of what he had done. _

*****

_ Bofur adjusted his suspenders a bit, head down and attention on trying to get his clothes situated to where he didn't look as if he had just gotten fucked. Thorin had his back to him, cleaning himself in the bathroom, condom being tossed in the bin as he stepped out looking content and refreshed. He drew near Bofur who tensed a little when he felt his presence, tensed harder when lips brushed against the back of his neck. _

_ "Was it good?" _

_ "Yeah," Bofur lied as he felt Thorin wrap arms around his waist to grope his groin that made him wince with strain. _

_ "Wanna do it again?" _

_ "Wh--" _

_ Thorin made Bofur turn around as he laughed, fixing his shirt collar to brush thumbs along his jawline. Clearly he was joking, but Bofur was still wary as eyes darted every which way over Thorin's face. Thorin noticed him being jumpy and frowned as he pulled his hands away. _

_ "Bofur.." _

_ Bofur looked as of he were about to cry, but he swallowed hard and cleared his throat to push back his emotions yet again. _

_ "I really did want it, okay? Just..sometimes I don't feel--" He said chuckling while donning that mask of cheeky smiles and banter. "Well sometimes I don't react to stuff like other folks do. It felt great though!" Bofur said quickly to cover himself. Thorin wasn't buying it, he could see in those green eyes something wasn't right. He could see the hurt and in turn his own eyes expressed something hat made him purse lips tight. _

_ "Maybe we did this too soon--" _

_ "No no no! It was--I liked it! You're a damn good lay!" _

_ Thorin still had doubts and there was still that look of sadness in his eyes that Bofur saw. It wasn't of self loathing, but of a weird vibe of being looked down upon. A look that showed that he was more stable, better off, almost of guilt. It was a look of pity that suddenly made Bofur take in a sharp breath of anger as if he was going to lash out defensively. Thorin moved to open the door for Bofur and watched him fidget for a moment before clearing his throat. _

_ "I think..maybe it's wise we take a hold on our conversations for a while, Bofur." _

_ "Oh..oh okay..well. Have a gold night!" _

_ Bofur took his leave from the office, Thorin quick to close the door behind him. Feeling especially hollow and weirdly messy all at the same time, Bofur shrugged and held his mask over his face as he walked through the aisle to reach the elevator that opened before he had a chance to open. Dave stepped out, giving an upnod in greeting to smirk at Bofur. _

_ "Oi you done up here, then?" _

_ "Yeah pretty much!" _

_ "S'proper funny that Mr. Oakenshield keeps askin' for you to clean his office. Third time this week!" _

_ "Really? Weird. I've not seen anyone in th' office except for his assistant." _

_ "Eh? Mr. Oakenshield ain't got no assistant? He stays late sometimes, bit of a night owl like us actually! Oh there he be right now!" _

_ Thorin stepped out of his office, folders in hand as he glanced over to see Bofur and Dave who was waving and grinning. A quick smirk came with an upnod in greeting as he went into the copy room. Bofur stood stark frozen, his mind connecting the dots instantly on who Thorin was. _

_ ***** _

Bofur sobbed harder, crying as he tried to clean himself, letting the hot water wash over him, praying and steadily weeping like a small child begging for forgiveness for sins that he hadn't realized he was in the wrong for. Begging whatever proverbial God to have mercy and that they steer him away from the inevitable chaos that was to happen if secrets were known. By the time he emerged from the showers it was morning, he was red as a tomato and he felt weak. Too tired to make breakfast--too depressed to do  _ anything-- _ Bofur collapsed in his bed and blacked out.


	10. Tauriel's Wrath

**\--Two Months Later--**

"Tauriel, push my morning meeting until eleven and call Jermaine to see if he's managed to get those files done. I need them by three," Thorin said as he leaned up against the threshold of his doorway.

Tauriel nodded and picked up the phone to dial in and make a few calls. Thorin stayed put, watching her work, then looking towards the cubicles on his floor to see his employees working diligently under his hawk eyed stare. Not too many of the higher ranked had come in, though Fridays were usually half days and with it being almost five, it was a skeleton crew crunching in the last hour before the weekend rolled around the corner. As much as he wasn't particularly fond of Tauriel, Thorin had to admit she was good at her job. Secretary work wasn't for the soft hearted and that was especially prominent when being his secretary, even after the whole ordeals of her and his nephew undergoing a separation and now a divorce, Thorin wasn't entirely torn about it all. If anything, he was proud of Kili for finally putting his foot down on Tauriel's behavior. Deep down he didn't entirely  _ care _ like the rest of their family did; the melodramas of interpersonal relationships revolving around his kin were only significant enough upon the means of it genuinely affected their well being or how they functioned. His sister was livid, more so at Tauriel than anyone else for all the conflicts that had been brought forth, of course Fili was concerned for Kili as all older brothers looked out for their siblings. The separation wasn't exactly a deep or livid scandal, nor was it talk of the city. Divorce was normal and Thorin had seen it coming well over a mile away that his nephew's marriage to a woman twice his age and undergoing a long term mid life crisis was going to end in a lot of screaming and crying.

Thorin didn't treat Tauriel any greater or lesser, though those turbulent first two weeks of Kili informing her of the soon to be divorce were damning. Nevertheless, Thorin was quietly keeping a close eye on her performance and productivity with her duties. Again; at the end of the day, yes, the divorce was sad. Sorry that it happened, but it's almost the end of the fiscal year. Numbers needed to be crunched. Records needed to be double checked. Receipts collected, papers organized, and meetings to attend. When he suggested that she take some time off, she refused, which in his eyes meant that she was going to keep fighting. Good. He liked people with backbones and he liked fighters that knew that responsibilities sometimes overrode emotional wants. Yet Tauriel was starting to crumble and there were some red flags that Thorin was conflicted if he should or shouldn't press Tauriel again to take some time off, take a vacation or spend some time with relatives. He could see the subtle signs of drug use; the sweats, shakes, and twitches. The outbursts in the parking lot towards other employees--Tauriel always had a temper on her, but she'd been damned good at keeping a lid on it.

"Tauriel," Thorin said low as he beckoned her to follow him into his office.

After offering a seat and a drink, they started to speak for some time, keeping voices low as best as they could while others took glances at the closed door with nosy curiosity, hoping to hear anything as they passed by. In due time Tauriel emerged looking a little flushed in the face with eyes lit with rage, but mouth pursed shut tight as she moved fast to gather her belongings with shaky hands and booklets being slammed about only followed with awkward glances in her direction was the few employees that were left watched Tauriel storm out of the office area in a teary eyed huff.

Evening came and once again, Tauriel took her seat in the semi circle adjacent to a few other familiar faces, though the group wasn't as big as it had first started, there were a few new faces to the session. As per usual, Bard was there making himself a cup of coffee and debating on which sweet to get, Tauriel watched him for the time being; the stained and worn jacket with jeans combo suited him just as the dirty cowboy boots. She loved the strut of a man who had been through hell and back, Bard had that exact step in his boots that came with a world weary gaze of dark eyes. It was of no surprise why she was first drawn to him and how they had fucked in the first week of knowing each other. Though Tauriel had been so used to Bofur and how willing he was that she hadn't been entirely too prepared with how straightforward and stoic he was. Walls upon walls that were hard to break and the sex was phenomenal, but Tauriel was getting a taste of her own medicine. Bard was particularly dominant, he didn't like being kissed, didn't like being touched in certain ways, and he was quick to educate Tauriel on the aggressive and impulsive attitude wasn't going to be rewarded with affections. He never laid a hand on her, never spat, snarled or yelled, but he was greatly dismissive. There had been an instance where she randomly showed up at his house, wanting to scratch an itch, barreled her way through the front door expecting Bard to stop everything he was doing to pay attention. Instead she was grabbed and escorted out of his apartment with the door slamming right in her face. She cursed and yelled of course only to be met with neighbors warning that they'd call the cops if she didn't leave. It had only turned Tauriel on  _ more  _ to Bard and had driven her to try a little harder. She still didn't like her own medicine though--bittersweet and fleeting, Bard only gave her the time of day when  _ he  _ wanted to and when it was good for  _ him. _ All the while, Tauriel felt weirdly unfulfilled and annoyed, but hellbent to gain his approval and satisfaction. In truth, it was a life lesson Tauriel learned the hard way that she realized that the same thing Bard was doing to her, in turn had done to Bofur.

And as she sat there, numb and angry, but warmth to be had as Bard gave her a smile and a nod in greeting, she thought about Bofur. What was he doing? Why wasn't he here anymore? Did he finally end up going back to jail? Tauriel had finally asked Bilbo, but he was rather frank that he couldn't go into details--confidentiality rules and all didn't permit him to discuss information on his clients. All that he could say is that he had seen Bofur recently and that he suggested that Tauriel focus more on herself than on Bofur. Although she didn't express it, she was pissed off that Bilbo was being frank and dismissive, she didn't approve of his tone towards her that dripped with crass judgement hidden by warm smile and sharp, blue eyes that she could tell Bofur had been talking to him. For some reason it filled her with a sense of anxiety that she came to realize that Bofur  _ knew too much about her.  _ Even though they had never gone too in depth about their pasts entirely, Tauriel had her issues just like everyone else. Bofur knew about her ticks and habits, her cravings for those strong, but fleeting rushes, he knew that she wasn't entirely happy in her now broken marriage that was pretty much on its last leg. Over those next few days that anxiety became an irrational paranoia in wondering if Bofur had let it slipped that they had fucked at work. That one way or another someone heard him bragging--even joking and her name came up which in turn caused gossip to spread throughout the office. Was  _ that  _ the reason why Thorin had pushed for her to take some off? Did he know?

A paranoid mind often coupled with a fear. A fear of being found out, a fear of being caught for that matter drove Tauriel into anger and an unresolved sense of closure with Bofur. She felt guilt that she had treated him so badly, but anger with herself for being so volatile. Tauriel internalized the anger and doubts, did he best to redirect them in group therapy, confessing that maybe her mother had something to do with how she was; equally as volatile, verbally abusive, and man hating after her father had run off with some college girl when she was only ten. It only made them both hardened up and emotionally sharp. Where her mother became cold and distant, Tauriel became fiery and fierce, hardly a surprise why even to this day she and her mother were so distant with one another. She was never  _ enough _ for her mother's high expectations and the only outlet that came from that was to rebel in the only way she knew at the time; sex, drugs, and rock n' roll. Of course, Tauriel had a particularly shit habit of containing her anger. If she couldn't say or mind or claim victory, then she would find a means to create her own personal sense of "justice". Sometimes this mindset of justice didn't adhere to the common laws. Tauriel was simply put;  _ passionate.  _ Sometimes that passion consumed her in ways that she couldn't control, didn't  _ want  _ to control, and other times she was so close to the brink that she couldn't stop herself until she was running on fumes. So in her eyes, going over to Laketown Heights to investigate was of the norm. Ascending on the elevator to check her makeup in the stainless steel reflection while a crowbar propped against her hip was routine. Picking the lock to Bofur's apartment door. Rummaging through his things. Breaking baubles and trinkets off shelves on the walls. Tearing books and tossing them about. Swinging the crowbar into his television and entertainment setup. Kicking over the sofa and flipping the coffee table to scatter all its contents onto the floor. All of it was second nature. To Tauriel, her actions of vandalism and destruction of personal property was simply justice. Justice for wasting her time, justice for the sub-par sex, and validation over the fact that he had abandoned her to focus on himself. The extreme audacity that he had the  _ nerve to leave  _ **_her_ ** to focus on  _ himself  _ was the strongest ache Tauriel felt. How could he be so selfish? Did he truly tell others at the office that they had fucked? He had ruined her marriage, ruined her job--She looked over to see an old acoustic guitar with worn out stickers and strings sticking out at the end, which caused her to drop the crowbar and grab it to gold it like a baseball bat, hefting the weight of it while using both hands to raises it over her head.

"You couldn't just stay put! You selfish bastard! _I LOVED YOU AND YOU LEFT ME BEHIND!_ " Tauriel shrieked as she slammed the guitar down on the floor to have it shatter with a loud twang and bang on the hardwood.

**_"TAURIEL!!"_ **

Tauriel whipped around to see Bard standing there, wide eyed and furious, jaw clenched tight as he looked around inside the destruction that she had wrought. Bard was at a loss for words, unable to speak, let alone make any noise as he saw Tauriel turn, holding the broken handle of a guitar that now lay shattered into parts and splinters. She looked equally as shocked to see Bard standing at the doorway, then the thump of boots in the hallway came with an all too familiar voice and a body making themselves known.

"I called the cops, I bet a raccoon got in and--" Bofur stopped as he saw Tauriel in the center of the destruction within his own apartment. Instantly his eyes went to her hands, he looked down at the floor where splintered chunks of what was left of his guitar and Tauriel holding the rest in her tight grip. Green eyes looked at Tauriel who only looked back with the vitriol and contempt of a woman who had been scorned. There was satisfaction on her face, a subtle sneer at seeing sorrow trace itself over Bofur's face.

\-----

Bofur had just finished up the shift at his new job, yet another custodial occupation, but the hours were more inviting to his night owl routine to where he got off at ten and was home to stay up until as late as three in the morning if he wished with plenty of time for his medication to make him drowsy enough for rest. Even then, sometimes he got done early and the boss let him leave right then and there if there wasn't anything extra to do. The past two months had been arduous, that first stretch was hellish to say the least, but over time and after forcing himself into a little bit of isolation, Bofur felt more in control. He had quit his job at Erebor Industries, which was a disappointment to Thorin, but the man understood that Bofur clearly had some issues that needed sorting out and respected his space. They occasionally texted one another, Bofur couldn't very well hate the guy and even though their "little moment" had fucked him up, he didn't blame Thorin. The guy was actually pretty damn nice when he wasn't hounding for ass and it was a mutual agreement that they did better as friends with no benefits. It was a strange blessing in disguise having such companionship since Bofur rarely had healthy friendships in general, but Thorin was a guy that shared his mutual fondness for various forms of metal and rock music, happily debating on which band was the best during their prime, and bantering about as guys often did with one another.

As for therapy sessions, Bofur had been able to change his scheduling thanks to Dwalin pulling some strings. He still saw Gandalf once a week though video calls made it easier given his limitations on transportation and he still met up for group therapy, but this time he went during the daytime just before work. Bilbo was happy by his improvement and glad that things were going well, their own friendship staying strictly professional only breached occasionally when Bilbo offered Bofur a ride home, who in turn paid for their meals when grabbing a bite to eat. It was upon one of those particular instances where he and Bilbo walked up the block to enjoy the Christmas lights in the neighborhood and the bout of excitement of a food truck nearby that served authentic tacos. Bofur had been lucky to not be called in for work, so his mood peaked to where he and Bilbo loitered at the part before he needed to head home.

"Oh there's Bard. Would you.." Bilbo trailed off to grab a napkin and wipe his face while glancing up at Bofur. "I mean you and him seem to have a uh-- _ past. _ I won't invite him over if you--"

"No no, you can if ya like? I-I mean if he--if we ain't disturbin' him and all," Bofur mumbled awkwardly.

Bilbo waved his hand up high, beckoning Bard to come near and they both noticed him hesitating, but fighting through to approach which followed with Bilbo standing to greet him. Bofur stood as well, though his attention mainly focused down on his phone as if he suddenly got a wave of messages to look over. Bard and Bilbo did their usual greeting of polite hell's and talking about their day, yet a sharp elbow at his side had him quickly looking over at Bilbo who was glaring at him to put his phone away and pay attention.

"Oh-oh dear! I almost forgot! I'm going to be late for a meeting! Bofur I'm sorry to do this, but will you be alright getting home?"

"Uh yeah. Sure. Bus stops near the park too so--"

"Perfect! I'll see you two later then!"

"Bilbo wait a min--"

Bilbo was already taking his leave while typing away on his phone to send Bofur a quick text that made him check while Bard was distracted at watching Bilbo leave.

_ You have unresolved probs w/him. Both of u been thru a lot. Talk it out! _

_ Fookin weasel u are. _

_ ;) _

Bofur sighed loudly and shoved his phone in his pocket to look over at Bard who only looked back as they both clenched their jaws tight to hold onto the tense silence that was growing between them.

"Was that Bilbo?"

"Huh?"

"He--texted me too," Bard said as he held up his phone.

"Right, no surprise there. So.." Bofur trailed off to clear his throat. "Alright then?"

"Can we skip this whole awkward small talk?"

Bofur exhaled hard and beckoned Bard to follow him down the path, they has some time before the bus made its rounds again, though Bofur wasn't exactly sure what to say to Bard. A little over a decade of radio silence between them both only made them realize that each end had changed so much that they weren't entirely sure if they were still the same or totally different people. Yet they finally managed to speak, each side telling their side of their own story; Bofur's disastrous time being locked up and wild stories he heard, Bard going on about how he got married, had three kids with two different women, how he successfully managed to gain fat cash with two one hit wonders before blowing through the money up until child support and the divorce had left him bone dry. It was an unsurprisingly painful realization that both of them were two old men with far too many mistakes and twice as many regrets on their shoulders. Yet through it all, there was a strange peace that they both could appreciate as they walked through the park, the cold air contrasting the heat of bundled up jackets and gloves was something that they both liked.

"I missed this."

"Cant get proper Fall and Winters out west?"

"No not that.  _ This.  _ **_Us._ ** You," Bard admitted as he coughed. "You appreciate the quiet just as much as you enjoy talking."

"You missed me."

Bard smirked at Bofur's attention span focusing more on the glazed over statement compared to the explanation, yet another factor he always liked about Bofur.

"I should apologize for what happened that night."

"Bofur it wasn't your fault--"

"Let me finish. That night I should have gone with you, but I was scared and high."

"And stupid."

" _ Very  _ stupid!"

Laughter and heads shaking came with them stopping to see the Christmas lights strung from trees to poles flicker on to make the pathway glow bright. Bofur didn't remember much that night, fleeting moments and spotty memories reflected upon when he awoke in a state of cotton mouthed hangovers that left him feeling crusty and weak.

*****

_ "You could come with me! Don't you want to get out of this fuckin' town!?" _

_ "I  _ **_like_ ** _ it here! My cousin, m'brother are here! Why don't you wanna stay?" _

_ "Cause I have dreams, Bofur! Goals! Ambition! And don't use family as an excuse? When have they truly been there for you!?" _

_ "Don't bring my family--Bullshit! Yer chasin' tail and cash! How the fuck can ya do this to us, Bard!" _

_ "Don't!  _ **_Don't_ ** _ blame this on me! The band's been shit ever since you and Nori got hooked on the powder! You guys barely come to practice--you missed the last three gigs!! The fuck did you want me to do!" _

_ "Ya ain't here for us why the  _ **_fuck_ ** _ should we be there to cover yer arse? We agreed we'd talk to that agent  _ **_together_ ** _ , but you went behind our backs and went there solo! Ya always do this! We agree to do somethin' together? Ya turn around and make decisions for us without askin for our input!" _

_ "I didn't bother asking because I knew you'd be fucking high as a goddamn kite  _ **_again!_ ** _ Lo and behold here ya are! Strung out! Yeah yeah that's right do another fuckin' line, Bofur!" _

_ " **Fuck you!** Fuck you, Bard! Ya think yer so high and mighty all the goddamn time, like you're better than us! How's Deborah? How's that boy of yer's doin!?" _

_ A scuffle was had, the table was shoved over and out of the way, Bofur yelled as he was struck hard. He could feel Bard's knuckles hitting his face, cracking his nose hard enough to draw blood. A boot rose, Bard was kicked hard on the gut and shoved back as Bofur scrambled to get up and fling all of his weight onto Bard, sending them tackling to the ground in a snarling, cursing mess of fists being thrown, hair pulled, and knees slamming hard. _

_ ***** _

"You beat my ass and I left that night losing a lot more than I thought. Back then, in my mind I was doing the right thing for myself. You were right; I got selfish. I should have discussed that deal with the both of you first before signing on."

Bard looked guilty, eyes focused on the twinkling lights as he chewed on his lower lip. Even from his point of view, Bofur could see the genuine remorse expressed on Bard's face and for some reason it drove him to stand a little closer, clearly invading personal space for a moment to stop him yet again.

"You shouldn't feel too much guilt, alright? Me and Nori were in the hole with drugs and ya shouldn't feel ashamed because of our choices. Sometimes--" he paused to think back on words of advice he had received days prior from Gandalf. "S-sometimes it's okay to be selfish. Cause ya can't help everyone. Ya can't hold everyone's hand, cause they made their own choices. So..bein' selfish, when it comes to yer own health--your own well being--well..sometimes it's okay. Ya shouldn't have had to sacrifice your happiness and health for two druggies that willingly chose to throw themselves into tha' pit of self destruction."

Bard looked surprised by that word of advice, intrigued over the fact that Bofur was speaking so carefully. In the past Bofur may had just offered him a pat on the back and a beer, told him to suck up and shut up before laughing over Bard being so emotional. But now? Bofur was actually  _ listening to him _ . Letting him speak. Providing mindful rebuttals that were not only comforting, but made a lot of sense.

"It's not your fault," Bofur added. "We were both--"

Suddenly he felt lips against his own, the tickle of mustache and warm breath of hot chocolate being overtaken by his senses. Arms were wrapped around his body, Bard was standing over him, head bowed enough to where he pressed the kiss to linger if just for a few seconds longer before realizing his intrusion and pulled back a bit to huff out a low breath. Bofur looked stunned, eyes still wide and mouth slightly open with gaze staring off into space while his brain tried to process exactly what had just happened. Bofur felt warm, entirely too warm, his face was beat red and he felt as if he was crumbling apart right then and there. Yet Bofur inhaled deep and bit the inside of his cheek to recollect himself before looking at Bard who looked scared, knowing that he had made a mistake with such impulsive actions.

"Do--" God he didn't even know if asking such a thing was right. Could he? Should he? Would it be in the wrong to ask it?  _ Be a little selfish sometimes. As long as you're not harming others in the process, it's fine to be a little indulgent, Bofur. Why do you feel that you need to be so hard on yourself?  _ "Do you want to come back to mine?"

"Excuse--"

" _ Not like that!  _ I..you know. To catch up. Talk. Chew th'fat for a bit maybe? I got leftover Chinese."

"Hmn..leftover Chinese  _ does  _ sound good. Alright then, sure."

Bofur and Bard picked up with talking again, the sensation of tension practically blown away by a cold gust of wind as they made their way towards the bus stop. The spoke all the way to Laketown Heights, Bard talking a lot about his misadventures out west and being on the road, guest starring with bands or being the open liner at concerts and events. He spoke about his three children, how he and Bain's mother had done their best to make amends and paid years of child support debt that he had missed out on, though Bain was practically an adult, at least they were trying to establish a good relationship with each other now. Then the talk of his ex wife taking his two daughters away, temporary custody implemented; she kept them during their school year then over the summer they'd stay with him. He had hoped for weekends as well, but given his living situation and income the court deemed it unwise. By the time they reached the lobby of Bofur's apartment, they were both laughing over the twisted sense of irony of Bofur's family disowning him for being queer, only to have his cousin, who had been pretty much the most violent towards Bofur at the time, to come out as full blown gay.

Yet as they both stepped off the elevator, they heard the commotion of a break in that caused them to go quiet and tense with realization that by the sound of it, Bofur had a burglar or two trying to raid his apartment. Bofur hung back near the elevator, quick to pull out his phone and call the police, he tried to grab at Bard to stop him from confronting the intruders, but Bard had always been headstrong and stupidly brave at times. He moved quietly down the hall, hoping to catch the burglars off guard so he could attack or pick up something to throw. Yet instead he was met with the sight of Tauriel grabbing a guitar and smashing it to bits on the floor. Bard had seen the worn stickers, the slightly scuffed signature of Ronnie James Dio--Bard yelled, Tauriel froze and spun around to see him standing at the door. They both heard Bofur approaching, but couldn't say a word as he too went quiet and moved to stand in front of Tauriel looking completely horrified at what she had done.


End file.
